Part 12 (2/2)

”Of course, I know you will consider it a story to think about--and not to speak of. But I thought, as it was your aunt, it would interest you.”

”It does. I'm very glad you told me, because it makes me understand Aunt Anne better, I think. Poor Aunt Anne! Although, perhaps, you think your uncle is the one to be sorriest for.”

”I am going to join him in Paris to-morrow,” he replied a little irrelevantly.

”To Paris! To-morrow!” echoed Barbara, the thought of Alice rus.h.i.+ng into her mind. ”Oh, I wonder--it would be much better--I wonder if you could do me a favour? It _would_ be such a relief to tell an English person about it.”

”An American,” he corrected. ”But perhaps that would do as well. I hope it is not another runaway bicycle?”

”But it just _is_ another runaway expedition--though not a bicycle,”

said the girl, and thereupon poured into his ears the story of Alice Meynell and her woes.

At first he laughed, and said she was in danger of becoming quite an accomplished plotter; but, as the story went on, he grew grave.

”It is a mad idea, Miss Britton,” he said. ”I am sorry you are mixed up in the matter. Would it not have been better for you to write to the girl's father and tell him all this?”

Barbara looked vexed.

”How silly of me!” she exclaimed. ”Do you know, I never thought of that; and, of course, it would have been quite simple. It _was_ foolis.h.!.+”

”Never mind now,” he said consolingly, seeing how downcast she looked.

”I am sure it must have been difficult to decide; and now that the enterprise is fairly embarked on, we must carry it through as well as possible. I think the station here would be one of the first places they would send to when they found she had gone; but we can cycle to the next one and send the machines back by train--she will be so much sooner out of St. Servan.”

Barbara agreed gratefully. She was glad that there would be no need for the dark cupboard, and felt much happier now that the immediate carrying out of the plan was in some one else's hands. So she fixed an approximate hour for the ”Pretender” to be ready next day, and then said good-bye.

”I will postpone my call on Mademoiselle Loire till another time,” he remarked. ”I only hope that nothing will prevent that terrible young lady of yours getting off to-morrow.”

”I hope not,” sighed Barbara. ”She may not even manage to get to the baths at all. If so, we'll have to think of something else.”

”_Komm Tag, komm Rat_,” he said cheerily, as he turned away. ”Perhaps we may yet want the cupboard.”

Barbara hoped not, although Jean was greatly disappointed when he heard of the alteration in the plans, and the only way the girl could console him was by telling him that, if ever she wanted to hide, she would remember the cupboard, which, she thought was a very safe promise!

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ESCAPE.

The following day was damp and dark, and the weather showed no signs of improving, which was depressing for those who had great plans afoot.

Mademoiselle Therese thought Barbara was showing signs of madness when she proposed going to the baths, and was not a little annoyed when her disapproval failed to turn the girl from her purpose. Barbara had grave doubts about Alice being allowed to go, but she felt _she_, at least, must at all costs be there. She had time to remind the bath-boy of his bargain, and to promise him something extra when next she came, if he were true to his word, and was just ready to return home, when Alice arrived with the old maid. She succeeded in giving her a little piece of paper with some directions on it, but was able to say nothing; and, after a mere nod, left the bath-house.

She was very curious to see where the window by which the girl was to escape opened, and, going down the pa.s.sage that ran along the side of the building, found that it opened into a yard, which seemed the storehouse for old rubbish--a safe enough place to alight in. When she returned to the street she saw the ”Pretender” coming along, wheeling two bicycles; and her relief at seeing him was mingled with compunction at giving him such a lot of trouble.

It really was rather cool to drag a comparative stranger into such a matter, even if his good nature had prompted him to offer his a.s.sistance. But, somehow, the mere fact of his talking English had seemed to do away with the need of formal introduction, and the knowledge that his uncle had known Miss Britton in bygone days would be a certificate of respectability sufficient to satisfy her mother, she thought.

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