passed the turn at the first 'barriere'."

"Is it possible we could have come wrong?"

"Oh, Mr. Lorrequer, don't say so, I entreat of you."

"And what road is this, then, my friend?"

"This is the road to Albert and Peronne."

"Unfortunately, I believe he is quite right. Is there any crossroad from
the village before us now, to the Amiens road?"

"Yes; you can reach it about three leagues hence."

"And we can get a carriage at the inn probably?"

"Ah, that I am not sure of--. Perhaps at the Lion d'or you may."

"But why not go back to Abbeville?"

"Oh, Mrs. Bingham must have left long since, and beside you forget the
distance; we have been walking two hours."

"Now for the village," said I, as I drew my friend's arm closer within
mine, and we set out in a fast walk.

Isabella seemed terribly frightened at the whole affair; what her mamma
might think, and what might be her fears at not finding us on the road,
and a hundred other encouraging reflections of this nature she poured