‘I do not know, unfortunately. I only came to Binché last July. I think they ward off evil spirits, or some such thing. Whatever they do, my friend says they have been doing it for hundreds of years.’ Anne-Marie pointed as one of the Gilles threw an orange into the crowd. The dragon overhead made a show of snapping at it, and the orange passed ineffectually through its intangible jaws. The crowd screamed with laughter, jostling each other in their attempts to catch the fruit. As they marched, each Gilles threw oranges to the crowd from a seemingly endless supply.

When the Gilles passed in front of the spot where Jane and Anne-Marie stood, the crowd scrambled for the oranges and pressed the ladies forward. Jane struggled to keep her footing, seeing a similar alarm on Anne-Marie’s face. An orange soared overhead and the crowd surged back as people reached up to catch the fruit.

Despite her earlier protestations, Jane felt not at all well. The press and the noise of the crowd brought back the unease in her stomach and made her head spin. ‘I think I should like to go now.’

‘Of course!’ Anne-Marie’s eyes widened in alarm. Jane could only assume that her countenance had turned as sickly as she felt.

Pressing her hand to her forehead, she sought a way out of the throng. The wall of people pressed toward the street, and would not give way with any ease to their efforts to move away from the parade. The day darkened around her, and, with no other warning, Jane fainted.

Though Jane was entirely insensible of her surroundings, what happened next was this: One of the Gilles, upon seeing Jane’s distress, broke away from the parade and lifted her in his arms. With quick instructions from Anne-Marie, he made his way through the crowd, which gladly gave way to one of their folk heroes. Once clear, he carried Jane all the way back to the Chastain residence.

As they were entering the gates, one of M. Chastain’s students spied them, and the household was raised in a state of general alarm. Neither the master nor the mistress of the house were in, so it fell to Anne-Marie to organise things. The Gilles, who would not remove his mask in accordance with tradition, handed Jane to one of the students and left without another word.

By the time Jane was deposited in her room, she was roused enough to be distressed by the fuss and bother she had created. ‘Forgive me.’ She tried to sit up, despite the grey spots which danced in front of her eyes.

Anne-Marie pressed her back into bed. ‘Nonsense, madame, the fault is mine for taking you out before you were ready. Now, please, be still until the doctor arrives.’

‘A doctor!’ Her dismay increased. ‘No! I assure you that is unnecessary. I was only overcome for a moment.’