(7)
But even as misfortune pursued the Reverend Dr. Primrose, pressing on him a fresh calamity in every chapter, so with Dr. Primrose's readers. The day of peace to which they were both looking forward when Aymar was next morning installed again under the pear tree was rudely broken by the advent of a letter to Mme Allard from Jérôme, her elder son, announcing his immediate return, ill. And Jérôme, there was no possibility of doubt, would instantly denounce Laurent's presence to the garrison at Arbelles.
"But not yours, surely," broke in Laurent when he heard this, thinking of Madeleine's devotion.
"It is true that he would not find me a very profitable speculation," said Aymar drily. "But I do not choose to risk a second turning out at the hands of an Imperialist. Madeleine has a plan for despatching me to her brother-in-law, at Port-Marie, about six miles away, on the coast. There is no need, however, for you to wait until I can be assured of a fresh shelter. I suggest that you hurry off at once, especially as the letter speaks of an Imperial victory on the frontier. Jérôme may arrive to-day."
Laurent sat down upon the grass. "We go together," he said simply. "Tell me now about this brother-in-law."
It appeared that Michel Royer was a fisherman of some means and of Royalist leanings, having been out in the war of '99. There was therefore reasonable hope that he would shelter them, and Jeannot had been sent on the farm mare with a letter to ask this favour.
Laurent took it very philosophically; there was nothing else to do, it seemed to him. "The coast, too," he observed. "Here is the finger of Providence. Was I not talking of returning by sea?"
But he could see that Aymar was not finding philosophy so easy—who would, as weak as he? He lay back frowning, looking very tired.
"Yes," he said listlessly, "you might find it convenient."
"But you?" said Laurent. "It is not good for you to be bundled about like this, and, moreover, it is not necessary. You ought to go home now to be nursed; you need so much care still. And Port-Marie is in exactly the opposite direction from Sessignes, is it not?"
Aymar shut his eyes. "Yes," he answered, his voice grating a little, "it is; but it may be very convenient for me also to be on the coast. When I am a little stronger, I shall very likely leave France altogether."
Laurent stared at him, thunderstruck. The clean-cut, sensitive mouth was set in a line that was half resolution, half pain. God in Heaven, what did he mean by that? As he tried in one and in the same mental process to arrive at his inner meaning and to ward it off from him, the face, the chair, the background all rocked for a second before his sight.
"Leave France altogether!" he repeated when he could find his voice.
Aymar opened his eyes again, but he did not look at him. "Yes," he said. Then he added, "Perhaps." And on that Madeleine, sniffing audibly, came hurrying over the grass in her heelless shoes.