"At your service, Mademoiselle," said the rough voice which first had challenged her.
"It is all right," said Mademoiselle. "Are you prepared?"
"Oh, I am prepared right enough!" retorted the man whom she had called Blue-Heart. "My musket has been ready for that vermin this past fortnight. I've been here every afternoon," he continued, "since first I had my orders."
"It couldn't be managed sooner, my friend," answered Mademoiselle. "The fox was wary; he would not walk into the trap."
"It was baited often enough for him."
"Oh, yes! He met me in the town. He walked with me through the streets or along the river bank. He even came to church with me once or twice," she added with a strained laugh. "But, unlike a beast of prey, he would not come out of nights."
"Did he suspect you, Mademoiselle?" asked Blue-Heart; "or Madame?"
"Oh, no!" replied the girl. "Instinctive caution has saved him so far; nothing more."
"Think you he will come?"
"I am sure," she replied decisively. "You'll hear our voices—mine you will recognise. You'll not miss him?" she added with a strange quiver in her voice.