"But to what purpose—"
"Oh, you may trust me!"
"My dear girl, that was not in my mind." He spoke gently. "But until the warrant arrives—"
"We will give it until to-morrow; by every account it should reach us to-morrow. You shall take it with me. I must see him once more; only once—in your presence, if you wish."
Next morning they rode into the town together, an hour before the mail's arrival. Endymion alighted at the Town House to write a business letter or two before strolling down to the post office. Dorothea cantered on to the top of the hill, and then walked Mercury to and fro, while she watched the taller rise beyond. The snow had ceased falling; but a crisp north wind skimmed the drifts and powdered her dark habit.
Twice she pulled out her watch; but the coach was up to time in spite of the heavy roads; and as it topped the rise she reined Mercury to the right-about and cantered back to await it. Already the street had begun to fill as usual; and, as usual, there was General Rochambeau picking his way along the pavement to present himself for the Admiral's letter—the letter which never arrived.
Would her letter never arrive?
He halted on the kerb by her stirrup. She asked after the Admiral's health.
"Ah, Mademoiselle, if ever he leaves his bed again, it will be a miracle."
She was not listening. Age, age again!—it makes all the difference.
Here came the coach—did it hold a letter for Raoul? Raoul was young.