Papa Louis shook his head. “I must go,” he said.
“And who will protect us?”
“I trust there will be no need, and even if there were, there are neighbors besides messieurs our guests. They have both recovered sufficiently to handle a gun.”
“To shoot each other? No, no. I will not be responsible for them.”
“Gerard returns this afternoon. You will be safe enough then.” Papa Louis spoke rather shortly. He did not half like his errand, yet was not inclined to give it up.
Alaine, from the door, watched him depart. She returned to the big living-room to hear Mère Michelle expostulating with François. “But, monsieur, I assure you it is still very early. You will weary before the day is out. I beg of you to rest till you have breakfasted.” She emerged from behind the curtains. “He will wear me to a bone, that one there,” she made her complaint to Alaine as she stirred about to prepare the breakfast. “M. Verplanck arises like a gentleman without discourse. He takes my advice; if I say, ‘Remain in bed,’ he remains.”
“And this morning?”
“He has already arisen, as you may perceive.”
Alaine ate her breakfast silently; once or twice she raised her eyes to M. Verplanck, who sat opposite, and when Mère Michelle went to the buttery, she said in a quick whisper, “Monsieur, I wish to speak to you; much depends upon it. I go to the garden.”
Into Lendert’s sleepy blue eyes came a flash of understanding. He was not long in following Alaine to the garden. She stood waiting for him with something like impatience. “Monsieur Verplanck,” she began, “you must leave us to-day.”