The following day was damp and dark, and the weather showed no signs of improving, which was depressing for those who had great plans afoot. Mademoiselle Thérèse thought Barbara was showing signs of madness when she proposed going to the baths, and was not a little annoyed when her disapproval failed to turn the girl from her purpose. Barbara had grave doubts about Alice being allowed to go, but she felt she, at least, must at all costs be there. She had time to remind the bath-boy of his bargain, and to promise him something extra when next she came, if he were true to his word, and was just ready to return home, when Alice arrived with the old maid. She succeeded in giving her a little piece of paper with some directions on it, but was able to say nothing; and, after a mere nod, left the bath-house.  
She was very curious to see where the window by which the girl was to escape opened, and, going down the passage that ran along the side of the building, found that it opened into a yard, which seemed the storehouse for old rubbish—a safe enough place to alight in. When she returned to the street she saw the "Pretender" coming along, wheeling two bicycles; and her relief at seeing him was mingled with compunction at giving him such a lot of trouble.
 
It really was rather cool to drag a comparative stranger into such a matter, even if his good nature had prompted him to offer his assistance. But, somehow, the mere fact of his talking English had seemed to do away with the need of formal introduction, and the knowledge that his uncle had known Miss Britton in bygone days would be a certificate of respectability sufficient to satisfy her mother, she thought.
 
"I am so sorry it's wet," she said. "It makes it so much worse for you to be hanging about."
 
"It is hardly the day one would choose for a bicycle ride," he returned cheerfully; "but, like the conductors in Cook's Tours, I feel I have been chartered for the run, and weather must make no difference. But you should go straight home. It would be too conspicuous to have two people loitering about. I will let you know as soon as possible how things go, and if you don't hear till to-morrow, it will mean we are safely on our journey."
 
Barbara saw the wisdom of returning at once, but did so with reluctance, and, finding that she was quite unable to give proper attention to her work, wrote a long letter home, relieving her mind by recounting the adventure in full. It was a good thing that the first plan—of hiding Alice in the neighbouring house—had not been carried out, for, about three quarters of an hour later, Mademoiselle Eugénie came hurrying up to see if the girl was with them, and on hearing she was not, at once proposed—with a suspicious glance at Barbara—that she should inquire at the next house.
 
She asked the girl no questions, however, perhaps guessing that if she did know anything she would not be very likely to tell. It was Mademoiselle Thérèse who, in the wildest state of excitement, questioned every one in the house, Barbara included, and the latter felt a little guilty when she replied that the last time she had seen the missing girl was in the baths.
 
Before very long the bellman was going round proclaiming her loss, and describing the exact clothes she wore; and Barbara was afraid, when she heard him, that there would soon be news of her; for she had been wearing the little black hat and coat that all the girls at Mademoiselle Eugénie's were............