Martine appeared, and finding Jane awake, returned with a pot of hot chocolate and a plate with some little pastries of a kind Jane had never seen. “So good,” Jane said, wiping a crumb from her dressing gown. “What are they?” “Croissants,” Martine said. “Little crescent moons, you see?” “Where might I find the king?” Jane asked as Martine helped her dress. “I should like to—thank him for his kind reception yesterday.” “He is paying a call at the Tuileries, I believe, mademoiselle, but will no doubt be back before long.” “And my brother?” “He is with some of the other English gentlemen. Come, I will show you where.” “I thank you, mademoiselle, but if there is a way to get letters to England, I wonder if I might trouble you first for some ink and paper?” Jane wrote to her family to tell them that she and John had reached Paris, and also to Ellen Norton, telling her the truth of why she had left Abbots Leigh, and assuring her that nothing less than the future of the monarchy would have made her leave Ellen’s side.
