It was now barely 10 A.M., and the time intervening before the departure of the eastward bound express (three and a half hours) was none too much to carry out my intentions as to Lady Henriette.

I first of all ordered a covered landau to be harnessed as speedily as possible, and to be sent to await me in a side street near the Hotel Modena; then I summoned l’Echelle and bade him make all ready for the journey.  I also told him that I should be busily engaged that forenoon; but that as I might be obliged to run it very close for the train, he was to make all preparations, to take the tickets, and await me on the platform.  I had debated anxiously with myself how far I should betray the presence of Lady Henriette in Aix to l’Echelle, and decided that, although I had no particular reason to doubt him, I felt that it would be more prudent to keep the fact to myself.  For the same reason I kept him busily engaged in my bedroom packing, lest he should spy upon my movements.  There was still the fear that Falfani might be on the watch, but I had been assured by l’Echelle that the Blackadder party were so satisfied by the news he gave them that they left the business of shadowing almost entirely to him.

I was pretty sure that I reached the Hotel Modena unobserved.  I came upon the carriage by the way, and as I passed briefly desired the driver to follow me to the Hotel Modena.  Arriving there, I sent up my name, and followed it, a little unceremoniously, to Lady Henriette’s sitting-room.

She was there, dressed in hat and jacket, and so far disposed to comply with my wishes.  Her maid, Victorine, was with her, the baby on her knee.  Her baggage, happily light enough, was there, packed and all ready for a start.

But if I thought that Lady Henriette meant to yield without another skirmish I was sadly mistaken.  I was in for much more than a skirmish; it was to be a battle royal.

“The carriage is at the door,” I said as pleasantly as possible.  “We have nearly an hour’s drive before us, and I am delighted to think that you are ready and willing to go with me.”

“I am ready, as you see, but not willing,” she answered, bridling up with a scornful air.  “Very much the reverse indeed.  The more I think over it the more outrageous and preposterous your behaviour seems.  Where are we going?  I insist upon knowing.  I must have a plain categorical answer or I will not move an inch.”  Her dogged, determined air was belied by her dress and the obvious preparations already made for departure.  Her present attitude I set down to the vacillation of her character.  She might make up her mind one moment and one way, and yet be quite prepared to change it the next.

“You are fully entitled to know where you are going, and I have not the smallest desire to keep it from you,” I replied, still speaking in a smooth, courteous voice.  “I propose that you should take up your residence for a time—­the very shortest time possible—­at Le Bourget, a small place at the head of the lake.  You may know it; there is a snug little hotel in the village, the Dent du Chat.  You will like it.”