"Good God," the Earl of Aston exclaimed in English.

"Be silent, Citizen Pierre," Honor said in a hard voice.

"1 will go to fetch Céline and the children now, Madame la Comtesse," Thérèse said quietly. Turning, she walked from the house.

"Who was he?" the Duke of Sedgwick asked the stunned Anne-Marie.

"My husband's half brother," she replied. "He was his father's bastard, and was raised to be my husband's servant. Jean-Claude loved him as he would any brother. I always thought they were friends, but then yesterday I learned that it was Reynaud who had betrayed my husband when they were in Paris last year."

"Is that why the old woman killed him?" the duke continued to query. "It was, if I may say so, quite nicely, and neatly done."

Anne-Marie d'Aumont crossed herself, but said nothing.

"My lord," Allegra murmured softly to her husband, "it is obvious the old woman killed the villain because he has abused the comtesse. It is unlikely she will want to speak about it, for it will have been a terrible and shameful experience for such a virtuous and gentle woman. Let it be, and let us concentrate on leaving here as quickly as possible." She turned to the countess. "Madame, gather any jewelry or monies that you have secreted away, and hide them well on your person and those of your children. We can allow you to take nothing else. Remember, we are supposed to be bringing you to Harfleur to face revolutionary justice. If we are stopped on the road that is the story we will tell, and that is what must he believed."

"Who are you?" the Comtesse d'Aumont asked softly.

"I am madame la Duchesse de Sedgwick. This gentleman is my husband, monsieur le duc, and these are our friends. The woman with the eye patch is my maid, Honneur."

"Why?" the comtesse asked.

"Your uncle has been very distressed, as has your aunt, when you did not come to England immediately after your husband was killed. My brother, too, died in Paris, refusing to leave his affianced, although he was offered his freedom because he was English. This is our way of avenging him, and helping our friends, the Bellinghams."

"So you have come to rescue me and my children in his memory, eh, madame? You are mad, but then all the English are mad my papa used to say. How can I ever thank you?"

"We are not safe yet," Allegra reminded her. "Now go, and letch your valuables."

"One thing," the comtessa said. She looked to the duke. "I cannot leave my two servants behind. They will come with me."

The duke laughed ruefully. "In for a penny, in for a pound," he remarked. "It won't make any difference if we are caught helping three people or five to escape France. Yes, madame, of course your servants may come. I do not think I should attempt to argue with that fierce old woman who killed Monsieur Reynaud."

The countess bit her lip, and then she laughed softly, too.

Thérèse returned with her granddaughter, Céline, and the two children in tow. Their mother, coming back down the stairs to the foyer, explained all to them. Then she secreted her valuables among the five of them, explaining that it was all they would have to live on once they arrived in England.

"Oh, no, madame," Caroline burst out. "I am your cousin. You will come and live with my husband and me."

"You are my kin?" the comtesse said, and then she began to weep. "Ahh, to think that the little family I have left in England would care for me and for my children, that they would endanger themselves to come and rescue us." She embraced Caroline. "Merci! Merci!"

"It is time we were going," the duke said to them.

"What is to be done with that?" Allegra asked, pushing at the body of Reynaud d'Aumont with her wooden shoe.

"It will be taken care of, madame," Thérèse said grimly. "I have told the priest, and he will see to it. Reynaud le bâtard was not well loved among us. His body will be buried deep in the woods where it is unlikely anyone will ever find it."

"It will take us longer to return to the coast than it took us to get here," Allegra noted. "We shall have to walk most of the way back, I fear. The comtesse must ride in the cart with her servants and children. Two of us at a time will ride with her. The rest of us walk."

"Forgive us, madame," the duke spoke, "but we must march you from the house should anyone be watching. It should look as if you are being taken away."

"I understand," Anne-Marie said.

The duke and his party led the comtesse and her little family from their home, pushing them into the cart. Eunice and Caroline joined them, Caroline sitting next to her newly found cousin so they might speak. The duke and Lord Walworth climbed up upon the wagon seat, and chucking the reins, moved the horse into motion. The others walked next to the cart as it rumbled along. Here and there they passed peasants in the fields, preparing the soil for the new growing season.

"Vive la révolution!" they shouted, and the peasants in the fields responded in kind, "Vive la révolution!" but then they looked away, recognizing the Comtesse d'Aumont and her children, realizing what surely was happening to them, and feeling guilty at their own helplessness.

They traveled slowly over the rutted dirt road. The day which had begun gray turned grayer. A cold rain began to fall, turning the dusty track into a muddy trail. They had brought some bread and cheese from the yacht, and finally they stopped in the shelter of a hillside to rest the poor horse and feed the children who were chilled, and despite their mother's explanation, not just a little frightened. In the first hour of their travel Caroline explained the relationship between them to the countess.

"I knew my father had two brothers," Anne-Marie said, "but other than that, I knew little. Only my Uncle Frederick wrote regularly."

"Do you speak English at all?" Caroline asked her cousin.

"I fear not," came the reply.

"You will learn, and the children, too," Caroline said. "I do not know about your rather fierce Thérèse though."

"Her family has been with the d'Aumonts for centuries," the countess said. "When the revolution began her daughter ran off with a soldier, but her granddaughter, Céline, remained."

In late afternoon as they neared the coast they met a small troop of soldiers who came cantering toward them.

"Sing!" Allegra said to her companions. "Allons, enfants de la patrie, le jour de gloire est arrivé!" She waved merrily to the horsemen. "Vive la révolution, citizens!"

The cavalrymen waved back, continuing on their way. The road ahead of them was empty. No one wanted to be out unless they had to be on such an afternoon. A wind began to blow, and they could smell the sea as they drew near to it. Finally they reached the place where Captain Grant said they must leave the horse and cart. It was about a half a mile from the beach. The passengers were helped from the cart, the horse unharnessed and tied beneath a shed roof.

"We walk from here," the duke told them, and they followed. As they reached a crossroad they heard the sounds of hooves in the distance. "Into the ditch," the duke said urgently, and they tumbled into the dirt, ducking down so they could not been seen.

A party of cloaked men galloped by, taking the road to Harfleur. As soon as they were out of sight the duke signaled with his hand that they could be on their way again. They climbed, wet and shivering from the ditch, and hurried off toward the beach. Gaining the hilltop they struggled down the bluff, the sandy path giving way beneath their feet so that they half fell as they climbed down. Below they could see their boat, but the tide was coming in, and while it had been on the sand this morning, it was now beginning to bob gently in the incoming tide.

The Earl of Aston practically threw himself down the rest of the hill, and picking himself up, ran across the beach to catch at the boat and prevent it from floating away. His companions hurried after him. They helped the countess, her children, and her servants into the boat. Caroline and Eunice squeezed in along with the earl who would row. Lord Walworth, the duke, Honor, and Allegra pushed the boat out into the sea, watching as it made its way through the waves to where the Seagull lay at anchor in the rain and haze.

"We have done it!" Allegra said triumphantly to her husband.

"Wait until we are back aboard our ship to gloat," he said to her. "I will not feel at ease until I see England again, my darling."

"We were fortunate that we had no guards to beard. I thought Honor quite wonderful with her eye patch facing down that Reynaud man." She turned to Honor. "The eye patch was a stroke of genius."

Honor chuckled. "I always thought an eye patch intimidating, my lady. It wasn't hard talking down to that fellow who was at the house. I recognized his type. He was a bully, and bullies can usually be bullied."

They turned back to the sea and saw the little boat had reached Seagull. They could just make out figures climbing up, and then down the rope ladder that hung over the side of the vessel. Then the boat began to make its way back to the shore. When it arrived they found Captain Grant rowing. They hurried to climb into their transport, and head back to the ship. On board again they were eager to change from their revolutionary garb into their own clothing, which was much dryer. Bobby took the clothing from their French passengers to dry in the galley. Allegra and the others wrapped the countess, her children, and her two servants in their warm cloaks until their garments were dried again.