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He leaned heavily on a silver cane, which he grasped with his left hand. His right arm rested on his lower back. There was no trace of his copper hair. It was now white, as were his brows. Deep lines were carved in his cheeks, and more hugged the corners of his eyes and mouth. His clothes she recognized immediately as those belonging to Williams. He looked very much as though he were an eccentric old man who gave no thought to his appearance.
    When he finally reached the bottom stair, Roberta clapped in delight. Sir Nicholas stood up and made an elegant leg. His eyes, the only feature she recognized, were brim ming with laughter. Then the sound of someone entering the inn caused him to bend over again, and in a querulous voice he ordered her to his side. She complied quickly and placed herself protectively at his right elbow.
    “You’ve kept me waiting long enough, Roberta,” he said for the benefit of the visitor. “And where is that woman Ashley? I hope she is not still complaining about the noise that awoke us all this morning.”
    “Papa, please don’t work yourself up so. Ashley has been ready for the longest time. See, here she is now. Come, Ashley,” Roberta continued quickly as she caught sight of the stranger, who now stood in the corridor, effectively blocking their exit. “Papa is anxious to make Bethune by nightfall.”
    She led the way down the passageway, relinquishing her position at Sir Nicholas’s side to Williams. Mrs. Ashley brought up the rear with Henri. As Roberta drew level with the man, she stared at him haughtily, and when he made no attempt to move, she waved her hand in an imperious gesture.
    “If you will excuse us, sir,” she said, and breathed a sigh of relief when at last he stood back. She passed him without so much as a nod, and when she judged that Williams and Sir Nicholas would be level with him, turned back. “My bonnet!” she cried. “I forgot my bonnet!”
    As she pushed her way back to the parlor, she was pleased to note that the stranger gave Sir Nicholas and Williams no more than a cursory look. His eyes were on her. She quickly donned her bonnet, and was still tying the strings as she emerged from the parlor. The man was standing where she had left him, but this time as she passed, he moved back of his own accord and bowed.
    “C’est magnifique, mademoiselle,” he murmured as she sailed by him for the second time.
    There was a further delay as Sir Nicholas sent Henri back three times to reheat the bricks. In a low voice that only Roberta, who was now seated next to him, could hear, Sir Nicholas explained that he had recognized the stranger as being one of the comte’s servants.
    “I don’t think it in our best interest to appear in any great haste to leave.”
    “At this rate, we will be lucky if we set out before noon,” Roberta quipped. “Take pity on Henri and accept the bricks he offers next time.”
    “As you wish, although I happen to think all that unaccustomed exercise is good for him.” He paused to clear his throat. “I haven’t thanked you yet for coming to my rescue just now. Your timing was perfect.”
    “Think nothing of it, Sir Nicholas,” she responded, a faint blush coloring her cheeks at his admiring tone. “I find I’m enjoying myself enormously. For the past six months, I have been forced to endure my own company, and I must confess, it has become prodigiously dreary.”
    Sir Nicholas looked at her in surprise and seemed about to ask why, when Mrs. Ashley claimed Roberta’s attention by moaning pitifully. Roberta quickly moved over and sat next to her companion. “What is it, Ashley?” she asked. “Are you all right?”
    “I’ll be all right once we are on our way, Roberta. It was that man, who made me feel all faint. The way he looked at you sent a shiver right down my spine.”
    “Demmed insolent cur,” Sir Nicholas growled. “That’s another fault with the French. They have no manners worth speaking of.” He stuck his