The Colonel leaned forward in the saddle to pat the Doll's neck. Under the brim of his low-cocked hat his eyes laughed into Barbara's. "I wish it might be your heart!"

"My dear sir, don't you know I haven't one? Come now! In all seriousness?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. She had had the audacity to cram over her flaming curls a hat like an English officer's forage cap. She wore it at a raffish angle, the leathern peak almost obscuring the Vision of one merry eye. Her habit was severely plain, with no more than two rows of silver buttons adorning it, but the cravat round her throat was deeply edged with lace, its ends thrust through a buttonhole.

"One of your gloves," said the Colonel, and held out his hand.

She pulled it off at once, and tossed it to him. He caught it, and tucked it into the breast of his coat.

She wheeled her mount, and prepared to retrace her steps. The Colonel fell in beside her at a walking pace.

"Do you collect gloves, Colonel?"

"I have not up till now," he replied. "But a glove is a satisfactory keepsake, you know. Something of the wearer always remains with it."

"Let me tell you that a gallant man would have let me win!" she said, with a touch of raillery.

He turned his head. "Are you in general so spoilt?"

"Of course! I'm Bab Childe!" she replied, opening her eyes at him.

"And challenged me to a race in the expectation of being permitted to win?"

Her mouth lifted a little at the corners; the one eye he could see glinted provocatively. "What do you think?"

"I think you are too good a sportsman, Lady Barbara."

"Am I? I wonder?" Her gaze flitted to the Doll; she said appreciatively: "I like a man to be a judge of horseflesh. What's her breeding?"

"I haven't a notion," replied the Colonel. "To tell you the truth, she is out of my brother's stable."

"I thought I knew her. But this is abominable! How was I to guess you would steal one of Worth's horses? I consider you to have won almost by a trick! She's the devil to go, isn't she? Does he know you have her out?"

"Not yet," admitted the Colonel. "My dependence is all on his being still too delighted at having me restored to him to object."

She laughed. "You deserve to be thrown out of doors! I believe that to be the mare he habitually rides himself!"

"Oh, it won't come to that!" said the Colonel. "I shall implore my sister-in-law's intercession. That is a nice fellow you have there."

She passed her hand over the grey's neck. "Yes, this is Coup de Grace. We are in the same case, only that while you stole your lady, I have been lent this gentleman."

"Whom does he belong to?" asked the Colonel, running an eye over his points. "He may have a French name, but I'll swear he's of English breeding."

"Captain de Lavisse bought him in England last year," she replied with one of her sidelong looks.

"Did he?" said the Colonel. "Captain de Lavisse - is he the man who was standing beside you last night, when I first met you?"

"I don't recollect, but it is very probable. He is in the 5th National Militia: Count Bylandt's brigade, stationed somewhere near Nivelles - Buzet, I think. He has estates north of Ghent, and a truly delightful house in the Rue d'Aremberg, here in Brussels."

"A gentleman of consequence evidently."

"Fabulously rich!" said Barbara with an ecstatic sigh, and touching the grey's flank with her heel, went ahead with a brisk trot.

He rode after; both horses broke into a canter, and their riders covered some distance under the limes without speaking. Barbara presently turned her head and asked bluntly: "Did you ride this way, and at this hour, to meet me?"

"Yes, of course."

She looked a little amused. "How did you know I rode here before breakfast?"

"Something you said last night gave me the clue, and I discovered the rest."

"The deuce you did! I had thought very few people knew of this habit of mine. Don't betray me, if you please. I don't want an escort."

"Shall I go?" enquired the Colonel with uplifted brows.

She reined in again to walk. "No. You have had the luck to encounter me in a charming mood, which is not a thing that happens every day of the week. I warn you, I have the most damnable temper, and it is generally at its worst before breakfast."

"Oh, that is capital!" declared the Colonel. "You show me how I can be of real service to you. I will engage to be here to quarrel with you any morning you may wish for a sparring partner."

"I think," she said quite seriously, "that you would not make a good sparring partner. You would spare me too much."

"Not I!"

She did not answer. A solitary horseman, cantering down the avenue towards them, had caught her attention. As he drew nearer, she turned to the Colonel with one of her wicked looks, and said: "You are about to meet the Captain Count de Lavisse. Shall you like that? He is quite charming!"

"Then obviously I shall," he answered. "But I thought you said he was stationed at Nivelles?"

"Oh, he has leave, I suppose!" she said carelessly.

The Captain Count, very smart in a blue uniform with a scarlet-and-white collar, and a broad-topped shako, set at an angle on his handsome head, drew rein before them, and saluted with a flourish. "Well met, Bab! Your servant, mon Colonel!"

The Colonel just touched his hat in acknowledgment of this magnificent salute, but the lady blew a kiss from the tips of her fingers. "Let me make you known to each other," she offered.

The Count flung up a hand. "Unnecessary! We have met already, and there is between us an unpaid score. I accuse you of volerie, Colonel, and demand instant separation!"

"Your waltzes, were they?" said the Colonel. "My sympathy is unbounded, believe me, but what can I do? The Duke is devilish down on duelling, or I should be happy to oblige. You will have to accept my profound apologies."

"This is dissimulation of the most base! I am assured that you would serve me again the same tour - if you could!" said the Count gaily. His eyes rested for an instant on Barbara's ungloved right hand. He made no comment, but there was a gleam of understanding in the glance he flashed at the Colonel. He wheeled his horse, and fell in beside Barbara. Across her, he addressed Colonel Audley: "Your first visit to Brussels?"

"No, I was here last year for a short space. A delightful town, Count."

The Count bowed. "A compliment indeed - from one who has known Vienna! Our endeavours must be united to preserve it from the Corsican maraudeur."

"Your endeavours may be," remarked Barbara, "but I have met some who wish quite otherwise."

He stiffened. "Persons of no consequence, I assure you!"

"By no means!"

"Madame, when the time comes you shall see how the suspected Belgians shall comport themselves!" He threw a somewhat darkling look at Colonel Audley, and added: "Rest assured, we are aware what malveillants reports have been spread of us in England, and by whom! Is it not so, mon Colonel? Have you not been warned that our sympathies are with Bonaparte, that we are, in effect, indignes de confiance?"

The Colonel responded with easy tact, but lost no time in turning the conversation into less dangerous channels. A civil interchange was maintained throughout the remainder of the ride, but the Lady Barbara, suddenly capricious, was silent. Only when they arrived at Vidal's house in the Rue Ducale did she seem to recover from her mood of abstraction. She gave the Colonel her hand then, and the shadow of a tantalising smile. "Do you really care to quarrel with me, Colonel?"

"Above all things!"

"You have not met my brother and his wife, I think? They are holding a soiree here tomorrow evening. It will be confoundedly boring, but come!"

"Thank you: I shall not fail."

A few minutes later, Barbara dropped into a chair at her brother's breakfast table, and tossed her forage cap on to another. Vidal said peevishly: "I suppose you have been making yourself remarkable. If you choose to ride out before breakfast, you may for all I care, but I wish you will not go unescorted!"

"No such thing! I was escorted - I was doubly escorted! Tell me all you know of Charles Audley, Robert."

"I don't know anything of him. How should I?"

"A younger son, with no prospects," said Augusta trenchantly.

"But with such charm of manner, Gussie!"

"I daresay."

"And such delightful smiling eyes!"

"Good God, Bab, what is all this?"

"Oh, I have had the most enchanting morning!" Barbara sighed. "They rode on either side of me, Etienne and this new suitor of mine, and how they disliked one another! I have invited Charles Audley to your party, by the way."

"Oh, very well! But what is the matter with you? What is there in all this to put you in such spirits?"

"I have lost my heart - to a younger son!"

"Now you are being absurd. You will be tired of him in a week," said Augusta with a shrug.

Chapter Five

From the Rue Ducale, with its houses facing the Park and backing on to the ramparts of the town, to Worth's residence off the Rue de Bellevue, was not far. Colonel Audley arrived in good time for breakfast, laughing off his sister-in-law's demand to know what could have possessed him to ride out so early after a late night, listened meekly to some pithy comments from his brother on his appropriation of the Doll, swallowed his breakfast, and made off on foot to the Duke of Wellington's Headquarters in the Rue Royale. This broad street lay on the opposite side of the Park to the Rue Ducale, its houses overlooking it. Two of these made up the British Headquarters, but the guard posted outside consisted merely of Belgian gendarmerie, the Duke, whose tact in handling foreigners rarely deserted him, having professed himself perfectly satisfied with such an arrangement.