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Updated: June 16, 2025
He makes an ascent to-morrow noon." "Take a lantern, then," said Madame de Morteyn; "don't you want Jules, too if you're going on foot through the forest?" "Don't want Jules, and the squirrels won't eat me," laughed Jack, looking across at Lorraine.
"Pierre," he said; "get a dog-cart; I am going to drive to Morteyn. You will find me in the arbour on the lawn. Is the marquis visible?" "No, Monsieur Jack, he is still locked up in the turret." "And the balloon?" "Dame! Je n'en sais rien, monsieur."
Jack had peeped into the barred window and had seen the wicker car of the balloon standing on the cement floor, filled with the folded silken covering for the globe of the balloon. He could just make out, on either side of the car, two twisted twin screws, wrought out of some dull oxidized metal. On returning to Morteyn that evening he had told Lorraine.
They know nothing of what has happened at your home or at Morteyn; they need not know it until we meet them. Listen, Lorraine: it is my duty to find the Emperor and deliver this box to him; but you must not go it is not necessary. So I am going to get you to Brussels somehow, and from there I can pass on about my duty with a free heart." She placed both hands and then her lips over his mouth.
"Your Lieutenant von Steyr is a dirty butcher," he said. "I hope you'll finish him when you find him." "He fired explosive bullets, which your franc-tireurs use on us," retorted Rickerl, growing red. "Oh," cried Jack in disgust, "the whole business makes me sick! Ricky, give me your hand there! Don't let this war end our friendship. Go to your Uhlans now. As for me, I must get back to Morteyn.
At that moment a young girl came out of the crowded station, looking around her anxiously. "Lorraine!" cried the white-haired man. She was in his arms before he could move. Madame de Morteyn clung to her, too, sobbing convulsively; Dorothy hid her face in her black-edged handkerchief. After a moment Lorraine stepped back, drying her sweet eyes. Dorothy kissed her again and again.
Madame de Morteyn kissed all the girls on both cheeks, and the old vicomte embraced his nieces, Betty Castlemaine and Dorothy Marche, and threatened to kiss the others, including Molly Hesketh. He desisted, he assured them, only because he feared Sir Thorald might feel bound to follow his example; to which Lady Hesketh replied that she didn't care and smiled at the vicomte.
Every word, every gesture, the shape of the very folds in her skirt, he remembered; yes, and the little triangular tear, the broken silver chain, the ripped bodice! And she, in her innocence, had promised to see him there at the river-bank below. He had never gone, because that very night she had come to Morteyn, and since then he had seen her every day at her own home.
He found it hard to tell her what message her father had sent, but he did. "I am to go to Morteyn? Oh, I cannot! I cannot! Papa will be alone here!" she said, aghast. "Perhaps you had better see him," he said, almost bitterly.
The road between Saint-Lys and Morteyn was not a military road, but it was firm and smooth, and Jack drove back again towards the Château at a smart trot, flicking at leaves and twigs with Cecil's whip. The sun had brushed the veil of rain from the horizon; the leaves, fresh and tender, stirred and sparkled with dew in the morning breeze, and all the air was sweet-scented.
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