“He is here and ready for breakfast. And will be the more ready when he sees the guest we have,” Madame Bayard said, smiling at Alaine. “Our good cousin Lendert Verplanck it is of whom we speak. Here he is. Your aunt will not leave her bed this morning, cousin, but we have a guest you see, Mademoiselle Mercier, and you may take her out to breakfast.”
The good-looking young Dutchman was nothing loath despite Alaine’s torn clothes and dilapidated shoes, for it did not need that she should wear dainty raiment; the graceful head and little hands and feet were not those of a peasant.
“Lendert,” said his cousin, “it must be you who will see this young lady to her home, for I know none better to protect her by the way.”
“A horse from the stable and we are off whenever you say the word, my cousin,” he returned. “We can cut across country and be out of the way of followers, I think. Then I will continue on to the city and bring you news of what goes on there. I believe it is not safe for you to venture there while Leisler holds the reins. It is best you should keep your hiding-place a secret.” He glanced at Alaine as he spoke.
“It will never be known through me,” she ventured, softly, “for, woman though I am, I can keep a secret. My days have been too full of trouble not to know the feeling of one hunted.” She smiled at the young man, who protested that he had never dreamed of distrusting her.
“So lovely she is I could wish the way longer,” he whispered to his cousin a half-hour later when they set off, Alaine mounted on a pillion behind her cavalier. Her graceful, well-knit, buoyant figure was a strong contrast to his big heavy one, and her sense of humor of the situation once or twice caused her to smile behind the broad back. Here was she travelling through the country with a strange young man whose rosy Dutch face she had never seen till that morning. What would Michelle say, and Gerard and Pierre? Strange that she had perfect confidence in this escort, and had not the slightest fear of any one or anything while he was there. How angry M. Dupont must be by this time!
She gave a little shiver at the thought, and Lendert’s blue eyes cast her a glance over his shoulder. “Are you not comfortable, mademoiselle?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” she returned, “but I suddenly thought of where I might now be but for my good fortune in finding friends.”
He nodded in reply. He was rather silent, this young man of the flaxen locks, Alaine considered, but then, like Pierre, he might be of a thoughtful inclination. He was at least a good listener, for although Alaine did not understand Dutch, and his knowledge of French was evidently slight, they both knew enough English to make themselves understood and Alaine noticed that mynheer could always supply the word over which she hesitated, if not in English then in his familiar Dutch. So that a good understanding between them was reached before they had compassed half their journey.
But it must be said that in following the bridle-path through the dense forest Alaine felt somewhat less assured. She stopped her eager chatter, and her arm around the waist of Lendert crept closer. At this he turned and smiled at her with a reassuring expression of sympathy. “You are all safe,” he told her.