An hour later the lugger was moored against the quay, her crew had scattered to their homes, and the two travellers were housed in a quiet cabaret near, where they had called for a private room.

Half an hour later Maitre Perrot left the house, inquired the way to the governor’s residence, left a letter at the door, and then returned to the cabaret.  At nine o’clock a cloaked stranger was shown into the room.  When the door was closed he threw off his hat and cloak.

“My dear marquis, I am delighted to see you; but what means this wild freak of yours?”

“I will tell you frankly, de Brissac.”

And the Marquis de Pignerolles confided to the Count de Brissac his plan for getting his daughter away to England.

“It is a matter for the Bastille of his most Christian Majesty, should he learn that I have aided you in carrying your daughter away; but I will risk it, marquis, for our old friendship’s sake.  You want a passport saying that Maitre Antoine Perrot, merchant of Nantes, with his servant, Jacques Bontemps, is on his way to Poitiers, to fetch his daughter, residing near that town, and that that damsel will return with him to Nantes?”

“That is it, de Brissac.  What a pity that it is not with us as in England, where every man may travel where he lists without a soul asking him where he goes, or why.”

“Ah!  Well, I don’t know,” said the count, who had the usual aristocratic prejudice of a French noble of his time.  “It may suit the islanders of whom you are so fond, marquis, but I doubt whether it would do here.  We should have plotters and conspirators going all over the country, and stirring up the people.”

“Ah!  Yes, count; but if the people had nothing to complain of, they would not listen to the conspirators.  But there, I know we shall never agree about this.  When the war is over you must cross the channel, and see me there.”

“No, no,” de Brissac said, laughing.  “I love you, de Pignerolles, but none of the fogs and mists of that chilly country for me.  His Majesty will forgive you one of these days, and then we will meet at Versailles.”

“So be it,” the marquis said.  “When Adele’s estates have been bestowed upon one of his favourites, he will have no reason for keeping me in exile; but we shall see.”

“You shall have your papers without fail tomorrow early, so you can safely make your preparations.  And now goodbye, and may fortune attend you.”

It was not until noon next day that Maitre Perrot and his servant rode out from Nantes, for they had had some trouble in obtaining two horses such as they required, but had at last succeeded in obtaining two animals of great strength and excellent breeding.  The saddle of Maitre Perrot had a pillion attached behind for a lady, but this was at present untenanted.

Both travellers carried weapons, for in those days a journey across France was not without its perils.  Discharged soldiers, escaped serfs, and others, banded together in the woods and wild parts of France; and although the governors of provinces did their best to preserve order, the force at their command was but small, as every man who could be raised was sent to the frontier, which the fall of Lille had opened to an invading army.