They carried bundles with them, and walked with rapid steps to a
small lane which led off the street by the side of the garden wall.
It was quite dark, and they could see nothing, but a voice said:
"Adele!"
"Rupert!" one of the figures answered, in shy, trembling tones.
"Please stay where you are," Rupert said. "It is lighter in the
street."
The horses were led forth noiselessly, for Rupert had fastened
cloths round their feet, to prevent the iron shoes sounding on the
round pebbles which paved the streets.
Not a word was said. There was a warm clasp of the hand, and Rupert
lifted Adele into the saddle. Margot climbed into another, and the
three rode rapidly down the streets. Not a word was spoken until
they were in the open country.
"Thank God, you are safe thus far, Adele. The last time I helped
you on to a horse was the day you went out to see my hawk kill a
heron."
"Oh, Rupert," the girl said, "it seems like a dream. But please do
not let us talk yet about ourselves. Tell me about Papa. How is
he?"
Rupert told her; and gradually as they talked the excitement and
agitation passed off.
"And where did you get the horses, Rupert?"
"The one I am riding is Louis d'Etamps'," he said, "the others are
your father's. I brought orders from him to his steward in Paris,
that two of his best horses were to be sent this morning to a
stable in Versailles, and left there, and that a person with an
order from him would call for them.
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