Part 55 (1/2)

There were two halts called during the day--one for dinner and one h the afternoon--when she and Armand would step out of the coach and be led--alith soldiers close around them--to some wayside inn, where some sort of a meal was served, where the atmosphere was close and stuffy and suerite would in most cases have a room to themselves, with sentinels posted outside the door, and they would try and eat enough to keep body and soul together, for they would not allow their strength to fall away before the end of the journey was reached

For the night halt--once at Beauvais and the second night at Abbeville--they were escorted to a house in the interior of the city, where they were accos Sentinels, however, were always at their doors; they were prisoners in all but naht they were both so tired that they were glad to retire immediately, and to lie down on the hard beds that had been provided for them, even if sleep fled froh the city in search of hiht

Of Percy they saw little or nothing In the daytie, for they did not see hihts at Beauvais and Abbeville, when they caught sight of hiates of the barracks, he was so surrounded by soldiers that they only saw the top of his head and his broad shoulders towering above those of the nity by, and asked citizen Chauvelin for news of her husband

”He is well and cheerful, Lady Blakeney,” he had replied with his sarcastic slish are remarkable people We, of Gallic breed, will never really understand thenation to the decree of Fate Did you know, Lady Blakeney, that when Sir Percy was arrested he did not raise a hand I thought, and so did ht like a lion And now, that he has no doubt realised that quiet submission will serve him best in the end, he is as calm on this journey as I am myself In fact,” he concluded co into the coach I have invariably found Sir Percy Blakeney fast asleep”

”He--” she murmured, for it was so difficult to speak to this callous wretch, as obviouslyhim in irons?”

”No! Oh no!” replied Chauvelin with perfect urbanity ”You see, now that we have you, Lady Blakeney, and citizen St Just with us we have no reason to fear that that elusive Pimpernel will spirit himself away”

A hot retort had risen to Arainst this intolerable situation, the uish But her restraining, gentle hand had already pressed his What was the use of protesting, of insulting this brute, who cared nothing for the ained his own ends?

And Arue and tried to curb his temper, tried to cultivate a little of that fatalislish He sat beside his sister, longing to co that his very presence near her was an outrage and a sacrilege She spoke so seldom to hiht which had more than once found birth in his weary brain becauess?

Had she the slightest suspicion that the awful cataclys with every revolution of the creaking coach-wheels had been brought about by her brother's treacherous hand?

And when that thought had lodged itself quite snugly in his an to wonder whether it would not be far more simple, far ht suggest itself on the way When the coach crossed one of those dilapidated, parapetless bridges, over abysses fifty e door and to take one final jump into eternity

So easy--but so dauerite's near presence quickly brought hier his own to do with as he pleased; it belonged to the chief whom he had betrayed, to the sister whoht but little He had put even theof lavender pressed between the faded leaves of his own happiness His hand was no longer fit to hold that of any pure woman--his hand had on it a deep stain, iuerite beside hiether they looked out on that dreary, dreary road and listened to of the patter of the rain and the ru of the wheels of that other coach on ahead--and it was all so dis of the wind in the stunted trees, this landscape of rey sky

CHAPTER XLIV THE HALT AT CRECY

”Now, then, citizen, don't go to sleep; this is Crecy, our last halt!”

Ar steadily on since they left Abbeville soon after dawn; the rue, the interminable patter of the rain had lulled him into a kind of wakeful sleep

Chauvelin had already alighted frouerite to descend Armand shook the stiffness from his limbs and followed in the wake of his sister Always those h blue cloth, and the red caps on their heads!

Ared her with hirey before thelistened with the wet, reflecting the dull, leaden sky overhead; the rain beat into the puddles; the slate-roofs shone in the cold wintry light

This was Crecy! The last halt of the journey, so Chauvelin had said The party had drawn rein in front of a s the whole length of its front

The usual low narrow roouerite as they entered; the usualaway in streaks froalite, Fraternite!” scribbled in charcoal above the black iron stove; the usual musty, close atmosphere, the usual sht benches and central table with its soiled and tattered cloth

Marguerite seeiddy; she had been five hours in that stuffy coach with nothing to distract her thoughts except the rain-sodden landscape, on which she had ceaselessly gazed since the early dawn

Armand led her to the bench, and she sank down on it, nu her elbows on the table and her head in her hands