From behind him came another voice—faintly tremulous, the voice of a woman:
"Jacques, mon cher! We are ready! Quick!"
"Right!"
Then, prodding the baron's stomach with the gun barrel:
"Why I don't kill you now I'll never know. Le Bon Dieu knows I've got cause enough. And may He have mercy on your soul if you try to follow us!"
Turning on his heel, Mark sprang aboard the coach. From the driver's seat came a shout and the crack of the whip. With a jerk that nearly threw Mark to the floor, they were off!
"Oh, Jacques! I was so afraid! The baron—"
He turned in his seat. Looked into the lovely, appealing face of Elaine Duchard. Her arms reached out to him. Instinctively he accepted the embrace. He held her close, and his lips sought hers.
It was strange; incredible. Even as he kissed the girl, Mark realized it. He was two people simultaneously—Mark Carter and Jacques Rombeau. The brain of the former had traveled back through time into the body of the latter. In so doing, it had somehow acquired all the knowledge, the personality, the character traits of Rombeau. Yet because the mind of Mark Carter had been protected by Professor Duchard's insulating helmet, he still was able to think independently—almost as if his own twentieth century being was held apart in a special brain lobe within Jacques Rombeau's skull!
"I knew you would come, Jacques! I knew it!"