“Ah! that is what I say. How happy I should be if my dear Lucien were restored to me.”
So the acquaintance became closer and closer, and at last Will ventured to say: “If I were back in England, mademoiselle, I might perhaps get your Lucien out. You could give me his name and the prison in which he is confined, and it would be hard if I could not manage to aid him to escape.”
“Ah, monsieur, that would be splendid!” the girl said, clasping her hands. “If you could but get away!”
“Well, mademoiselle, I think I could manage to escape if I had but a little help. For example, from the top window of this house I think I could manage to jump upon the wall, and if you could but furnish me with a rope I could easily make my escape. Of course I should want a suit of peasant’s clothes, for, you see, I should be detected at once if I tried to get away in this uniform. I speak French fairly now, and think I could pass as a native.”
“You speak it very well, monsieur, but oh, I dare not help you to escape!”
“I am not asking you to, mademoiselle; I am only saying how it could be managed, and that if I could get back to England I might aid your lover.”
The girl was silent.
“It could never be,” she murmured.
“I am not asking it, mademoiselle; and now I must be going on.”
The next time he came she said: “I have been thinking over what you said, monsieur, and I feel that it would be cowardly indeed if I were to shrink from incurring some little danger for the sake of Lucien. I know that he would give his life for me. We were to have been married in a fortnight, when they came and carried him off to the war. Now tell me exactly what you want me to do.”