"What shall we do?" she asked. He scarcely spoke above a whisper:

"There must be time to think. I will go to London."

"You will come back?"

"Yes--in five days, if I live."

"I believe you," she said quietly. "You never lied to me. When you
return we will know what to do." Her manner was strangely quiet.
"A little trading schooner goes from Douarnenez to England to-morrow
morning," she went on. "There is a notice of it in the market-place.
That would save the journey to Paris.'"

"Yes, that will do very well. I will start for Douarnenez at once."

"Will Jacques go too?"

"No."

An hour later he passed Delia and her father on the road to Douarnenez.
He did not recognise them, but Delia, seeing him, shrank away in a corner
of the carriage, trembling.

Jacques had wished to go to London with Gaston, but had been denied. He
was to care for the horses. When he saw his master ride down over the
place, waving a hand back towards him, he came in and said to Andree:

"Madame, there is trouble--I do not know what. But I once said I would