Simone's face lighted up. Her hands clasped each other. 'Oh, Mademoiselle, what amazing good fortune!'
'Why? I had rather lodged at the New Inn. Being in my aunt's house I shall be obliged to tell her everything. But I dare not go to the inn; she would find out, it being almost next door to my aunt's house. It all depends whether she will be friend or foe.'
'Is Madame your aunt at all like Lady Fairfax?'
'In looks, yes.'
'A second Lady Fairfax had been an ally, Mademoiselle. But—but—Madame your aunt may have influential friends.'
A ghost of a smile flickered over Marion's face.
'Or enemies. She makes rare enemies, my Aunt Keziah. I have only been to the house once, when I was eight. 'Twas the first coach ride I had ever had. Then my aunt quarrelled with my father about my upbringing, and I never saw her again until this year when she came to Garth. I remember the house, in the High Street, near the East Gate.'
A question burned on Simone's lips. Presently Marion unconsciously answered it. 'I do not in the least know where—where the gaol is.'
For close on an hour the two whispered together, Marion finding a temporary relief in going over and over again the possibilities of the situation. Presently she fell silent, her face showing haggard in the candle-light.
'There's one thing,' she said at the last. 'Now something has got to be done. Only one more day in that hateful coach, sitting idle. I have thought and thought and thought; for four days I have sat thinking. There will be to-morrow for thinking again. Then——'