He told stories and cracked bad jokes in the intervals of congratulating Godfrey at his release from so dull a place as Kleindorf.

Godfrey said little or nothing, but reflected to himself that the Pasteur did not know Monk's Acre.
At last the moment came, and he departed with a heavy heart, for he had learned to love these simple, kindly folk, especially the Pasteur.

How glad he was when it was over and he had lost sight of the handkerchiefs that were being waved at him from the gate as the hired vehicle rolled away.

Not that it was quite over, for the Pasteur accompanied him to the station, in order, as he said, to take his last instructions about the Villa Ogilvy, although, in truth, Godfrey had none to give.
"Please do what you think best," was all that he could say.

Also, when several miles further on, they came to a turn in the road, there, panting on a rock, stood Juliette, who had reached the place, running at full speed, by a short cut through the woods.