He cut the cord but did not raise the cover. She held it some seconds in her hand.
“Uncle, do you remember you told me about a girl who opened a box and let troubles out all over the world?”
“But she was bidden not to. Grandpère Antoine did not leave any such word as that,” smilingly.
She raised the cover slowly. There was a bit of soft white fur in the bottom and on it lay a golden chain and a cross, with a pearl set where the arms and upright met. In the clasp was a smaller pearl. She held it up silently.
“The good saints must have touched his soul!” ejaculated Mère Lunde. “A beautiful cross! It is gold?” with a questioning glance at Denys.
Renée handed it to him.
“Oh, yes, gold of course. And your grandfather seemed quite moved with pity for you. I saw him again this morning, but he said, ‘Oh, I did not think she would die.’”
Renée’s eyes were wide open, with a startled light. “Did anybody think—that?” and her voice trembled.
“You may be sure I did not,” exclaimed Denys with spirit, almost with joyousness. “I would not have let you go.”
She held out both arms to him, and he clasped her to his heart.