"I know," said Guild. "I'll talk it over with you after the household leaves." And to Mrs. Courland, who appeared calm but a trifle dazed: "Miss Girard offers you Quellenheim for the night, and for longer if you desire."
"Please," said Karen, coming forward--"it would be very gracious of you to come. Will you, Mrs. Courland?"
"Thank you, dear--yes--it will be the greatest convenience. I don't know when we should arrive at Luxembourg if we started now." She took one of Karen's hands and turned to Guild: "What a terrible thing our people have done! Michaud came to tell us; Harry started everybody packing up. You will come with us, of course?"
"Perhaps later, thank you." He turned to Valentine who was coming out in hat and coat, followed by a pale-faced maid carrying both arms full of wraps.
"Please don't lose any time," said Guild, selecting wraps for Mrs. Courland and for Karen. "Are your servants ready?"
"Nobody is ready," said Valentine, "but everybody is here or in the hall, I think."
Guild gave his arm to Mrs. Courland and helped that active young matron spring into the touring car. Karen went next. Valentine and two maids followed; Guild slammed the door.
"All right!" he said curtly to the chauffeur, then, hat in hand, he said gaily: "Au revoir! A happy reunion for us all!"
As the car rolled out into the shining path of its own lamps Karen turned and looked back at him. And as long as he could see her she was looking back.
After the car followed two of the forest waggons, one filled with servants, the other loaded with luggage. Darrel came out of the house with the last odds and ends of property belonging to the Courlands and flung it pell-mell into the last waggon.
"No, go ahead, Harry. I'm stopping to talk with Michaud----"
"Well how are you going to get to Quellenheim?"
Darrel came over and said, dropping his voice: "After this murdering business it won't do for _you_ to be caught here."
"I don't mean to be caught here. Don't worry--and get a move on!"
"I don't know yet. Come, Harry, start that waggon!"
Darrel shrugged his shoulders, mounted the seat beside the driver, and the forest waggon rolled away into the darkness.
Guild was still looking after it, listening to Michaud's report of the sniping affair near Trois Fontaines, when he saw the figure of a man walking back from the direction the waggon had taken. The man walked with a visible limp.