Anne-Hilarion was sound asleep, one flushed cheek on his hand, after his custom, his hair tumbled, and his lips parted in the utter abandonment of childish slumber. What a pity to wake him! De Flavigny all but yielded to the impulse just to kiss him and to steal quietly out of the room. But he knew that the boy would fret afterwards if he went away without farewell. So with a heavy heart he stooped over him and spoke his name.
"Is it you, M. le Chevalier?" murmured Anne sleepily. "Oh, I was dreaming that I was in France. . . . What is it, Papa?"
"Shall I take a message from you to the Chevalier?" suggested René, catching at this opening and trying to smile.
Anne was still only partially awake. "Yes," he said drowsily. "Tell him that I want to show him my new goldfish . . . and tell him to come back soon to England. . . ." The words began to tail off into sleep again. So much the better. The Marquis knelt down and gave him a long kiss.
"Good-bye, my darling, my darling!" he whispered.
And instantly Anne was fully aroused. "Papa! you are not going now—to-night?"
"Yes," said his father. "I start for Southampton to-night. Kiss me, my son, and be a good boy while I am away—and a brave one now!"
But really it was he—as he felt—who had need of courage then, for next moment, releasing his hold of the child, as he knelt there, he himself had buried his face in the coverlet.
BOOK THREE
THE ROAD THAT FEW RETURNED ON
"It was mirk, mirk night, there was nae starlight,