CHAPTER XII.
THE PLOT THICKENS.
The next time Barbara went to the baths she chose the day and the hourat which Alice had told her she was usually taken, and was greatlypleased when she saw the girl waiting in the passage. But as soon asthe old servant saw her she edged farther off with her charge, wholifted her eyebrows in a suggestive manner, as if to say, "You see, myspy has been warned." It seemed as if it would be impossible to holdany conversation at all, but, fortunately, they were put into adjoiningcubicles, and Barbara found a crack, which she enlarged with herpocket-knife.
She felt as if she might be Guy Fawkes, or some such plotter from oldentimes, and wondered what he would have done if he really had beenpresent. But having seen how difficult it was even to speak to Alice,she was afraid the girl would take things into her own hands and dosomething silly.
Probably it was this feeling of urgency that stimulated her, and thevague ideas which had been floating in her brain suddenly crystallised,and a plan took shape which she promptly communicated to Alice. Thelatter, she proposed, should go to Paris, to the pastor's family atNeuilly, Barbara lending her the necessary money, for the girl was onlygiven a very little at a time. From Paris she could write to herfather and explain things, without any danger of having the letterexamined or altered.
The only, and certainly most important, difficulty in the carrying outof this plan was that there seemed no opportunity to escape except atnight, and even then it would need great care to slip past MademoiselleEugenie, who slept at one end of the dormitory. Barbara did not likethe night plan, because it would mean climbing out of the window andwandering about in the dark, or--supposing there were atrain--travelling to Paris; and either alternative was too risky for agirl in a foreign country, who did not know her way about.
Gazing up at the ceiling in perplexity over this new hitch, Barbaradiscovered a way out of it, for there was a glazed window not so highbut that Alice could manage to climb up, and if she got safely out(this was another inspiration), she was to run to the widower's houseand hide there till the time for a train to Paris. Once safely in thatcity, Barbara felt it would be a weight lifted from her mind, for shereally was not very happy at sharing in an enterprise which, even toher inexperience, seemed more fitted for some desperado than a saneEnglish girl.
Having begun, however, she felt she must go through with it to the bestof her ability, and undertook to write to Neuilly, to arrange with thewidower's son, and to bribe the bath-boy to give the girl the onlycubicle with a window. As a matter of fact, Barbara would have rathersent the girl to Mademoiselle Vire's, but the latter was so frail thatthe excitement might be injurious to her, and it was hardly fair tointroduce such a whirlwind into her haven of peace.
She had an opportunity of speaking to Jean that very day, for he hadoffered to give her some lessons in photography, and she was going tohave her first one in the afternoon. The boy was quite delighted withthe thought of having something "to break the monotony of existence,"and declared that it was an honour to share in any plan for the secureof the oppressed.
"We will inclose her in the photographic cupboard, mademoiselle," hesaid eagerly, "so that none can see her. Oh, we will manage well, Iassure you."
Barbara sighed, fearing she was doing almost as mean a thing as Marie,and was very doubtful as to what her mother and Aunt Anne would saywhen they heard of the adventure.
"I shall go to the look-out station and blow away these mysteries," shesaid to herself, when the photography lesson was over; and the verysight and smell of the sea made her feel better. The steamer fromDinard had just unloaded its passengers, and was steaming hurriedlyback again with a fresh load, when among those who had landed shenoticed one that seemed not altogether strange to her. She drewnearer, and was sure of it, and the visitor turning round at the samemoment, the recognition was mutual. It was the "American Pretender."
"I was just going to ask where Mademoiselle Loire lived," he saidgaily, "with the intent of calling upon you. How obliging of you to behere when the steamboat arrived."
Barbara laughed.
"I often come here to look across at dear St. Malo, and get the breezefrom the sea," she explained. "Besides, I like watching the ferries,they are so fussy--and the people in them too, sometimes. But how didyou get here?"
"Not having met any more rash and runaway damsels whom I had to escortback to Dol, I succeeded in reaching St. Malo, and it is not unusualfor visitors to go to Dinard and St. Servan from there. But, apartfrom that," he went on, "I found out something so interesting that Ithought I must call and tell you--being in the neighbourhood."
"That was awfully nice of you," said Barbara gratefully, "and I'm socurious to hear. Please begin at once. You have plenty time to tellme before we reach the house, and mademoiselle must excuse me talkingjust a _little_ English."
"I think the occasion justifies it," he agreed, smiling; then addedapologetically, "I hope you won't mind it being a little personal. Itold you I had come to Europe with my uncle, didn't I? My father leftme to his care when I was quite a little chap, and he has beenimmensely good to me. We are great friends, and always sharethings--when we can. He could not share this walking tour because hehad business in Paris, but I write him long screeds to keep him up inmy movements. In answer to the letter about our Dol adventure, myuncle wrote back to say that he had known an English lady long agocalled Miss Anne Britton, and he wondered if this were anyrelation--the name was rather uncommon."
The American paused, and looked at his companion.
"Please go on," she cried, "it is so very exciting, and surely it musthave been Aunt Anne."
"He knew her so well," the young man continued slowly, "that--he askedher to marry him, and--she refused."
Barbara drew a long breath.
"Oh! Fancy Aunt Anne having a romantic story like that! I _should_like to write and ask her about it. But, of course, I can't; she mightnot like it." Then, turning quickly to the American, she added, "Isuppose your uncle won't mind your having told me, will he?"
The young man flushed. "I hope not. He doesn't often speak of suchthings; and, though I knew there had been something of the kind, Ididn't know her name. Of course----" He hesitated.
"Yes?" said Barbara.
"Of course, I know you will consider it a story to think about--and notto speak of. But I thought, as it was your aunt, it would interestyou."
"It does. I'm very glad you told me, because it makes me understandAunt Anne better, I think. Poor Aunt Anne! Although, perhaps, youthink your uncle is the one to be sorriest for."
"I am going to join him in Paris to-morrow," he replied a littleirrelevantly.
"To Paris! To-morrow!" echoed Barbara, the thought of Alice rushinginto her mind. "Oh, I wonder--it would be much better--I wonder if youcould do me a favour? It _would_ be such a relief to tell an Englishperson about it."
"An American," he corrected. "But perhaps that would do as well. Ihope it is not another runaway bicycle?"
"But it just _is_ another runaway expedition--though not a bicycle,"said the girl, and thereupon poured into his ears the story of AliceMeynell and her woes.
At first he laughed, and said she was in danger of becoming quite anaccomplished plotter; but, as the story went on, he grew grave.
"It is a mad idea, Miss Britton," he said. "I am sorry you are mixedup in the matter. Would it not have been better for you to write tothe girl's father and tell him all this?"
Barbara looked vexed.
"How silly of me!" she exclaimed. "Do you know, I never thought ofthat; and, of course, it would have been quite simple. It _was_foolish!"
"Never mind now," he said consolingly, seeing how downcast she looked."I am sure it must have been difficult to decide; and now that theenterprise is fairly embarked on, we must carry it through as well aspossible. I think the station here would be one of the first placesthey would send to when they found she had gone; but we can cycle tothe next one a
nd send the machines back by train--she will be so muchsooner out of St. Servan."
Barbara agreed gratefully. She was glad that there would be no needfor the dark cupboard, and felt much happier now that the immediatecarrying out of the plan was in some one else's hands. So she fixed anapproximate hour for the "Pretender" to be ready next day, and thensaid good-bye.
"I will postpone my call on Mademoiselle Loire till another time," heremarked. "I only hope that nothing will prevent that terrible younglady of yours getting off to-morrow."
"I hope not," sighed Barbara. "She may not even manage to get to thebaths at all. If so, we'll have to think of something else."
"_Komm Tag, komm Rat_," he said cheerily, as he turned away. "Perhapswe may yet want the cupboard."
Barbara hoped not, although Jean was greatly disappointed when he heardof the alteration in the plans, and the only way the girl could consolehim was by telling him that, if ever she wanted to hide, she wouldremember the cupboard, which, she thought was a very safe promise!
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