"We have not yet come across your friend and mine, lying in a

heap in the roadway," was Chauvelin's sarcastic comment.
"Patience, noble Excellency," rejoined the son of Moses, "they

are ahead of us. I can see the imprint of the cart wheels, driven by
that traitor, that son of the Amalekite."

"You are sure of the road?"
"As sure as I am of the presence of those ten gold pieces in

the noble Excellency's pockets, which I trust will presently be mine."
"As soon as I have shaken hands with my friend the tall

stranger, they will certainly be yours."
"Hark, what was that?" said the Jew suddenly.

Through the stillness, which had been absolute, there could
now be heard distinctly the sound of horses' hoofs on the muddy road.

"They are soldiers," he added in an awed whisper.
"Stop a moment, I want to hear," said Chauvelin.

Marguerite had also heard the sound of galloping hoofs, coming
towards the cart and towards herself. For some time she had been on

the alert thinking that Desgas and his squad would soon overtake them,
but these came from the opposite direction, presumably from Miquelon.

The darkness lent her sufficient cover. She had perceived that the
cart had stopped, and with utmostcaution, treading noiselessly on the

soft road, she crept a little nearer.
Her heart was beating fast, she was trembling in every limb;

already she had guessed what news these mounted men would bring.
"Every stranger on these roads or on the beach must be shadowed,

especially if he be tall or stoops as if he would disguise his height;
when sighted a mounted messenger must at once ride back and report."

Those had been Chauvelin's orders. Had then the tall stranger been
sighted, and was this the mounted messenger, come to bring the great

news, that the hunted hare had run its head into the noose at last?"
Marguerite, realizing that the cart had come to a standstill,

managed to slip nearer to it in the darkness; she crept close up,
hoping to get within earshot, to hear what the messenger had to say.

She heard the quick words of challenge--
"Liberte, Fraternite, Egalite!" then Chauvelin's quick query:--

"What news?"
Two men on horseback had halted beside the vehicle.

Marguerite could see them silhouetted against the midnight
sky. She could hear their voices, and the snorting of their horses,

and now, behind her, some little distance off, the regular and
measured tread of a body of advancing men: Desgas and his soldiers.

There had been a long pause, during which, no doubt, Chauvelin
satisfied the men as to his identity, for presently, questions and

answers followed each other in quick succession.
"You have seen the stranger?" asked Chauvelin, eagerly.

"No, citoyen, we have seen no tall stranger; we came by the
edge of the cliff."

"Then?"
"Less than a quarter of a league beyond Miquelon, we came

across a rough construction of wood, which looked like the hut of a
fisherman, where he might keep his tools and nets. When we first

sighted it, it seemed to be empty, and, at first we thought that there
was nothing suspicious about, until we saw some smoke issuing through

an aperture at the side. I dismounted and crept close to it. It was
then empty, but in one corner of the hut, there was a charcoal fire,

and a couple of stools were also in the hut. I consulted with my
comrades, and we decided that they should take cover with the horses,

well out of sight, and that I should remain on the watch, which I did."
"Well! and did you see anything?"

"About half an hour later, I heard voices, citoyen, and
presently, two men came along towards the edge of the cliff; they

seemed to me to have come from the Lille Road. One was young, the
other quite old. They were talking in a whisper, to one another, and

I could not hear what they said."
One was young, and the other quite old. Marguerite's aching

heart almost stopped beating as she listened: was the young one
Armand?--her brother?--and the old one de Tournay--were they the two

fugitives who, unconsciously, were used as a decoy, to entrap their
fearless and noble rescuer.

"The two men presently went into the hut," continued the
soldier, whilst Marguerite's aching nerves seemed to catch the sound

of Chauvelin's triumphantchuckle, "and I crept nearer to it then.
The hut is very roughly built, and I caught snatches of their

conversation."
"Yes?--Quick!--What did you hear?"

"The old man asked the young one if he were sure that was
right place. `Oh, yes,' he replied, `'tis the place sure enough,' and

by the light of the charcoal fire he showed to his companion a paper,
which he carried. `Here is the plan,' he said, `which he gave me

before I left London. We were to adherestrictly to that plan, unless
I had contrary orders, and I have had none. Here is the road we

followed, see. . .here the fork. . .here we cut across the St. Martin
Road. . .and here is the footpath which brought us to the edge of the

cliff.' I must have made a slight noise then, for the young man came
to the door of the hut, and peered anxiously all round him. When he

again joined his companion, they whispered so low, that I could no
longer hear them."

"Well?--and?" asked Chauvelin, impatiently.
"There were six of us altogether, patrolling that part of the

beach, so we consulted together, and thought it best that four should
remain behind and keep the hut in sight, and I and my comrade rode

back at once to make report of what we had seen."
"You saw nothing of the tall stranger?"

"Nothing, citoyen."
"If your comrades see him, what would they do?"

"Not lose sight of him for a moment, and if he showed signs of
escape, or any boat came in sight, they would close in on him, and, if

necessary, they would shoot: the firing would bring the rest of the
patrol to the spot. In any case they would not let the stranger go."

"Aye! but I did not want the stranger hurt--not just yet,"
murmured Chauvelin, savagely, "but there, you've done your best. The

Fates grant that I may not be too late. . . ."
"We met half a dozen men just now, who have been patrolling

this road for several hours."
"Well?"

"They have seen no stranger either."
"Yet he is on ahead somewhere, in a cart or else. . .Here!

there is not a moment to lose. How far is that hut from here?"
"About a couple of leagues, citoyen."

"You can find it again?--at once?--without hesitation?"
"I have absolutely no doubt, citoyen."

"The footpath, to the edge of the cliff?--Even in the dark?"
"It is not a dark night, citoyen, and I know I can find my

way," repeated the soldier firmly.
"Fall in behind then. Let your comrade take both your horses back

to Calais. You won't want them. Keep beside the cart, and direct
the Jew to drive straight ahead; then stop him, within a quarter of

a league of the footpath; see that he takes the most direct road."
Whilst Chauvelin spoke, Desgas and his men were fast

approaching, and Marguerite could hear their footsteps within a
hundred yards behind her now. She thought it unsafe to stay where she

was, and unnecessary too, as she had heard enough. She seemed
suddenly to have lost all faculty even for suffering: her heart, her

nerves, her brain seemed to have become numb after all these hours of
ceaseless anguish, culminating in this awful despair.

For now there was absolutely not the faintest hope. Within
two short leagues of this spot, the fugitives were waiting for their

brave deliverer. He was on his way, somewhere on this lonely road,
and presently he would join them; then the well-laid trap would close,