No sooner had she got one theory than another forced her to move on.

In the language of her people, she did not know on which foot to dance.
As she sat and thought, Detricand entered, loaded with parcels and bundles.

These were mostly gifts for her father and herself; and for du Champsavoys there was a fine delft shaving-dish, shaped like a quartermoon to fit the neck.

They were distributed, and by the time supper was over, it was quite dark.

Then Detricand said his farewells, for it was ten o'clock, and he must be away at three, when his boat was to steal across to Brittany, and land him near to the outposts of the Royalist army under de la Rochejaquelein.