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Zachariah, "we were to ask the Major here on Sunday afternoon to tea, and to chapel afterwards." "Certainly." He was rather pleased with the proposition. He would be able to bear witness in this way at any rate to the truth. "Perhaps we might at the same time ask Jean Caillaud, his friend.
I am very glad to see you again. Where have you been? I thought we had lost you for ever." Caillaud and his daughter had followed. They bowed to her formally, and she begged them to be seated. "Then, my dear madam," continued the Major, laughing, "you must have thought me dead. You might have known that if I had not been dead I must have come back."
Nevertheless, neither Caillaud nor Pauline were now repugnant to him; nor did he feel that any soundless gulf separated them from him, although, so far as he knew his opinions had undergone no change. Mrs. Coleman forbore to pursue the subject, for her thoughts went off upon another theme, and she was inwardly wondering whether the Major would ever invite her to the theatre again.
In the aforesaid expansion they were even genteel, or at any rate aspired to be so, and each had its own brass knocker and kept its front-door shut with decent sobriety and reticence. On the top floor of one of these tenements lodged Jean Caillaud and Pauline.
As for Caillaud, his daughter and the Major, the next morning saw them far on the way to Dover, and eventually they arrived at Paris in safety. Zachariah, when he reached home, found his wife gone. A note lay for him there, probably from the same hand which warned the Major, telling him not to lose an instant, but to join in Islington one of the mails to Manchester.
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