“And I am to stay there alone, forsaken and lost?”
“It is a sacrifice which it seems to me you have to make for safety’s sake.”
She said nothing, weighing the two alternatives,—to remain in the house, or to accept M. de Brevan’s proposition. After a minute she said,—
“I will follow your advice, sir; only”—She was evidently painfully embarrassed, and covered with blushes.
“You see,” she said, after long hesitation, “all this will cost money. Formerly I used to have always a couple of hundred dollars in my drawers somewhere; but now”—
“Madam,” broke in M. de Brevan, “madam, is not my whole fortune entirely at your disposal?”
“To be sure, I have my jewels; and they are quite valuable.”
“For that very reason you ought to be careful not to take them with you. We must guard against every thing. We may fail. They may discover my share in the attempt; and who knows what charges they would raise against me?”
His apprehension alone betrayed the character of the man; and still it did not enlighten Henrietta.
“Well, prepare every thing as you think best, sir,” she said sadly. “I rely entirely upon your friendship, your devotion, and your honor.”
M. de Brevan had a slight attack of coughing, which prevented him from answering at first. Then, finding that Henrietta was bent upon escaping, he tried to devise the means.
Henrietta proposed that they should wait for a night when the count would take the countess to a ball. She might then slip into the garden, and climb the wall. But the attempt seemed to be too dangerous in M. de Brevan’s eyes. He said,—
“I think I see something better. Count Ville-Handry is going soon to give a great party?”
“The day after to-morrow, Thursday.”
“All right. On Thursday, madam, you will complain early in the morning already, of a bad headache, and you will send for the doctor. He will prescribe something, I dare say, which you will not take; but they will think you are sick, and they will watch you less carefully. At night, however, towards ten o’clock, you will come down and conceal yourself at the foot of the back-stairs, in the corner of the courtyard. You can do that, I presume?”
“Very easily, sir.”
“In that case all will be right. I will be here with a carriage at ten o’clock precisely. My coachman, whom I will instruct beforehand, instead of stopping at the great entrance, will pretend to go amiss, and stop just at the foot of the staircase. I will jump out; and you, you will swiftly jump into the carriage.”
“Yes, that also can be done.”
“As the curtains will be down, no one will see you. The carriage will drive out again, and wait for me outside; and ten minutes later I shall have joined you.”
The plan being adopted, as every thing depended upon punctuality, M. de Brevan regulated his watch by Henrietta’s; and then, rising, he said,—