Down I ran headlong, and whom should I find but the dear and excellent Madame Darpent.  She, who never left her home but for Church, had come to help us in our extremity.  It seemed that Meg’s dragoon (about whom she has told her own story) had disguised himself as soon as he came within Paris, and come in hot haste to M. Darpent, telling him how once my brave sister had repulsed the whole crew of villains, and how he had hurried away while the gentlemen (pretty gentlemen, indeed!) were drinking wine to get up their courage for another encounter, in which they were determined to succeeded since they were heavy bets at the Prince’s camp that the pride of la grand Anglaise should be subdued before midnight.  The dragoon had not ventured to come any farther than Maison Darpent, lest he should be missed and his comrades should not be able to conceal his absence but he assured M. Darpent that though they might appear to obey orders, they were resolved to give the lady every opportunity of resistance.  Was she not the wife of the best captain they had ever had, and had she not knelt like one of the holy saints in a mystery play?

I was for setting forth at once with Sir Francis, sure that the iniquity could not proceed when it was made public.  Of course we would have risked it, but we might not have been able to force our way in without authority, since the vile Abbe was on his own ground, and Madame Darpent told us her son had devised a better plan.  He had gone to the Coadjutor, who in the dotage of his uncle, the Archbishop of Paris, exercised all his powers.  As one of their monkish clergy, this same Abbe was not precisely under his jurisdiction, but the celebration of a marriage, and at such an hour, in a Priory Chapel, was an invasion of the privileges of the parish priest, and thus the Bishop of the See had every right to interfere.  And this same Coadjutor was sure to have an especial delight in detecting a scandal, and overthrowing a plan of the Prince of Conde and the ruling party at Court, so that if he could be found there was little doubt of his assistance.

In order to lose no time, Clement Darpent had gone instantly in search of him, and his good mother had come at once in her sedan to see if I were returned, relieve our minds about my sister, and if my mother were within reach, prepare her to go in search of Margaret, since the Coadjutor, Bishop though he were, was still young, and not at all the sort of man who could be suffered to bring her home without some elder matron as her escort.  Or if my mother were out of reach, Madame Darpent was prepared, as an act of charity and goodness, to go herself in quest of our poor Meg.  The carriage had followed her to the door for the purpose as soon as it could be got ready, and to add to my exceeding gratitude, she was willing to take me with her.  Sir Francis insisted on going to my mother.  He said it was right, but we doubted whether it would do any good.  We waited only