“Mademoiselle de St. Roques——”
“M’sieu has the name—precisely. Mademoiselle de St. Roques had some affair in the place, claiming her attention; and she was there for some days. Mademoiselle and I chanced to meet—it matters not how at this moment—and when I learnt that she was from Verdun, I asked her, had she ever seen M. le Colonel and the tall Monsieur le Capitaine, and the young gentleman with them? Then she asked me questions, and I found that she knew them—ah, very well indeed, as M’sieu is aware. And she told me of M’sieu being sent to Bitche, and of the great trouble it was to those others.”
“Did she say—were they all well, Jean?”
“Monsieur le Capitaine had been ill. Mademoiselle de St. Roques said that doubtless it would make him well, and would comfort greatly Madame votre mère, could they but hear of your welfare. Then I said to Mademoiselle that I would myself go to Bitche, and would in time bring word of Monsieur to Verdun. And she emptied her pocket of all the money that she had—cette bonne Demoiselle—and said I might have what more I wanted, so that only I could bring word of Monsieur.”
“But Captain Ivor—what was wrong with him? Ill, you said.”
Jean discreetly did not repeat all that Lucille had said.
“Monsieur le Capitaine had fallen ill after his march from Valenciennes, and he was so troubled about Monsieur at Bitche, that it retarded his recovery, so Mademoiselle informed me. And I thought, if I might but compass Monsieur’s escape from that terrible Bitche, and could take word that he was gone to England, then Monsieur le Capitaine would have a light heart, and would grow strong once more.”
“Jean, you’re the best fellow that ever was!” muttered Roy. “Won’t they be glad!”
(To be continued.)