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Doyle, Arthur Conan, Sir, 1859-1930

"Uncle Bernac A Memory of the Empire"

Last night she stole down to the Red
Mill with a basket of wine and fruit. All the morning I have seen her
eyes sweeping the country side, and I have read the terror in them
whenever she has seen the twinkle of a bayonet. I am as sure that
Toussac is in the mill as if I had seen him with my own eyes.'
'In that case there is not an instant to be lost,' cried Savary. 'If he
knows of a boat upon the coast he is as likely as not to slip away after
dark and make his escape for England. From the Red Mill one can see all
the surrounding country, and Mademoiselle is right in thinking that a
large body of soldiers would only warn him to escape.'
'What do you propose then?' I asked.
'That you meet us at the south gate of the camp in an hour's time
dressed as you are. You might be any gentleman travelling upon the high
road. I shall see Gerard, and we shall adopt some suitable disguise.
Bring your pistols, for it is with the most desperate man in France we
have to do. We shall have a horse at your disposal.'
The setting sun lay dull and red upon the western horizon, and the white
chalk cliffs of the French coast had all flushed into pink when I found
myself once more at the gate of the Boulogne Camp.


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