The infernal gardener was erect upon the instant. 'What's your
wull, miss?' said he.
Her readiness amazed me. She had already turned and was gazing in
the opposite direction. 'There's a child among the artichokes,'
she said.
'The Plagues of Egyp'! I'LL see to them!' cried the gardener
truculently, and with a hurried waddle disappeared among the
evergreens.
That moment she turned, she came running towards me, her arms
stretched out, her face incarnadined for the one moment with
heavenly blushes, the next pale as death. 'Monsieur de. Saint-
Yves!' she said.
'My dear young lady,' I said, 'this is the damnedest liberty--I
know it! But what else was I to do?'
'You have escaped?' said she.
'If you call this escape,' I replied.
'But you cannot possibly stop there!' she cried.
'I know it,' said I. 'And where am I to go?'
She struck her hands together. 'I have it!' she exclaimed. 'Come
down by the beech trunk--you must leave no footprint in the border-
-quickly, before Robie can get back! I am the hen-wife here: I
keep the key; you must go into the hen-house--for the moment.'
I was by her side at once. Both cast a hasty glance at the blank
windows of the cottage and so much as was visible of the garden
alleys; it seemed there was none to observe us.
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