"Should you? Then I can get her a place in France, where you will never hear of her again."
Hilda was silent.
"My plan about the yacht," said Gualtier, "was made before I left London. I said nothing to you about it, for I thought it might not succeed. The chief difficulty was to obtain men devoted to my interests. I made a journey to Marseilles first, and found out that there were several vessels of different sizes for sale. The yacht was the best and most suitable for our purposes, and, fortunately, it remained unsold till I had reached Marseilles again with _her_. I obtained the men in London. It was with some difficulty, for it was not merely common ruffians that I wanted, but seamen who could sail a vessel, and at the same time be willing to take part in the act which I contemplated. I told them that all which was required of them was to sail for two days or so, and then leave the vessel. I think they imagined it was a plan to make money by insuring the vessel and then deserting her. Such things are often done. I had to pay the rascals heavily; but I was not particular, and, fortunately, they all turned out to be of the right sort, except one--but no matter about him."
"Except one!" said Hilda. "What do you mean by that?"
"I will explain after a while," said Gualtier.
"If she had not been so innocent," said Gualtier, "I do not see how my plan could have succeeded. But she knew nothing. She didn't even know enough to make inquiries herself. She accepted all that I said with the most implicit trust, and believed it all as though it were Gospel. It was, therefore, the easiest thing in the world to manage her. Her only idea was to get to you."
Gualtier paused for a moment.
"Go on," said Hilda, coldly.
"Well, all the preparations were made, and the day came. Mathilde had left. _She_ did not seem to feel the desertion much. She said nothing at all to me about the loss of her maid, although after three or four years of service it must have been galling to her to lose her maid so abruptly, and to get such a letter as that silly thing wrote at my dictation. She came on board, and seemed very much satisfied with all the arrangements. I had done every thing that I could think of to make it pleasant for her--on the same principle, I suppose," he added, dryly, "that they have in jails--where they are sure to give a good breakfast to a poor devil on the morning of his execution."
"You may as well omit allusions of that sort," said Hilda, sternly.