“Ah, Michelle,” the tears rained down Alaine’s cheeks, “let us go. Take me with you, dear Michelle. I shall not care to live without you and papa. Take me; let us go.”
“My dear little one, have you thought well upon it? The way is full of danger. Are you willing to share the lot of a poor Huguenot? Can you be content in poverty and in a strange land?”
“Yes, yes, no matter what comes, I am willing to face it. Teach me my father’s belief, Michelle, so that he may know that we are one in all things.”
“We shall have to start before to-morrow dawns,” said Michelle, after a moment’s thought.
“So much the better, for I promised my cousin that he should have my answer to-morrow. He will find it here. We must not let the servants know. We will say that we go to the city to join my father.”
“Say nothing, but come to my room after dark this night. I have thought of little else this day. I was up betimes, for the letter came to me by the hand of a friend last night, and I did but wait for a proper time to reveal its contents to you. Your father foresaw this days ago. He told me where I should find money. I have sewed it into the hem of my petticoat. You will be disguised as a boy. I have the clothes ready.”
“Where did you get them?”
“From my sister. They belonged to her son. We will set out before dawn and carry eggs to market.”
“We will stand in no danger of being intercepted?”
“I think not. Go now, my pretty one, and try to be as like yourself as possible. In these days one does not know who may be friend or foe. I have prepared a chest, which I shall send out during the day by one of my own faith. He will carry it safely to Dieppe for us, and we shall not need to leave all behind.”