“The same.”
“Come with me.”
I followed him down the narrow street on tiptoe. So far as I could see it was entirely deserted. The street opened upon a little park or square. Under the trees I made out horses. There were three of them. A figure sat upon one. My heart leaped into my mouth as I discerned it to be a woman. One of the horses was turned over to me. My conductor took the third, first handing me a hat and cloak. Then he turned and, indicating that we should follow, made his way into the street. On account of the lateness of the hour, and the fact that the jail was in a remote and unfrequented portion of the town, the street was dark and empty. We passed a lantern presently and its rays fell upon the woman who had persistently avoided conversation with me. Under this light, although she wore a mask and was shrouded in a cloak, I knew that it was the Countess. Nothing could stop me then. I swung my horse in toward hers and laid my hand on her arm.
“Mademoiselle,” I said, “it is to you that I owe my freedom.”
“Not yet,” she replied, but she did not shake off my hand, and we rode side by side, the horses going at a good pace.
“First, you gave me something to live for—” I said.
“That was?”
“Yourself. Now you give me life to enjoy you.”
“Monsieur,” she said, dodging the issue, “we have but little time to converse. I learned of your plight——”
“How, Mademoiselle?”