And, with his eyes fixed on some vision of his own, he resumed operations on the contents of his bowl, now somewhat cooled by time and tears.
(2)
It was not till next day that Anne-Hilarion, sitting on the window-seat of his nursery, revolving anew the question of seeing his father, hit upon the idea of consulting M. de Soucy. For M. de Soucy, lame, as always, from the wound he had received at Thionville when he fought in the army of the Princes three years ago, had not been able to join the expedition, and he was still in his lodgings in Golden Square eking out a living by teaching music. And it appeared to Anne that M. de Soucy, who had seemed so disappointed at having to remain behind, might be induced to go, privately as it were, and to take him, Anne-Hilarion, with him—not, of course, to fight, but merely to see Papa. They might even see M. le Chevalier as well. . . . Having already travelled on the Continent, Anne felt that the actual journey presented few difficulties; but it would, he supposed, cost money, and the Vicomte de Soucy, ruined by the Revolution, was very poor. Grandpapa said so, and indeed M. de Soucy himself, always with a laugh. But if he, Anne-Hilarion, proposed such an expedition, it was surely his duty to defray its cost. Could he do this? He had, in his money-box, a crown piece which would not go through the hole in the lid, and which Grandpapa had introduced by means less legitimate, means which had revealed the presence of many other coins in the receptacle. There might be as much as a guinea there by this time. This wealth was not exactly accessible to Anne-Hilarion, since he could not open the repository, but if he went to interview M. de Soucy he could take the box with him, and doubtless M. le Vicomte would unfasten it.
The preliminary step was certainly to consult M. de Soucy. But how was he to do that? How was he to get to Golden Square without the escort of Elspeth or of Baptiste? Elspeth in particular had, as he knew only too well, a wary eye and a watchful disposition. He looked at her now, as she sat not far from him mending a little tear in his coat, with so meditative an air that Mrs. Saunders asked him what he was thinking of—and was no wiser when he replied, truthfully enough, "M. le Vicomte de Soucy." Yet before he returned to his contemplation of the Duke of Cumberland's equestrian statue in the Square, Anne-Hilarion had come to the conclusion that the only way to evade Elspeth was to call in celestial intervention.
Little, however, did Elspeth Saunders, that staunch Calvinist, imagine, as she impatiently surveyed the child at his 'Popish exercises' that evening, what it was which caused their unusual prolongation, nor what forces were being invoked against her. Little did she realise to what heavenly interposition was due, at least to Anne-Hilarion's thinking, the fact that next afternoon, at half-past one precisely, she slipped on the stairs and twisted her ankle rather severely, so that she had to be conveyed to her room and Baptiste despatched to fetch the doctor. M. le Comte had not in his orisons specified the hour of the miracle—nor, of course, the form that it should take—but he was on the alert. Mr. Elphinstone was nowhere about, so his grandson slipped into the library, and penned, not without labour, the following note:
"DEAR GRANDPAPA,—I think to go to France with M. le Vte. de Soucy, if God permits and there is mony suffisant in my box, to see Papa. I will not be gone for long dere Grandpapa. I love you alwaies."
He stood upon a chair and put this communication on the library mantelpiece; then, clutching his money-box, he struggled successfully with the front door, and set out towards the hackney coaches standing for hire on the other side of the Square.
(3)
Anne-Hilarion met no dragons on his adventurous way—which, after all, was very short. The hackney-coachman—who may have had qualms about accepting so immature a passenger—was most agreeable, and willingly agreed to wait, on arrival at Golden Square, in case he should be wanted again. The only obstacle to progress was the purely physical barrier of a stout and slatternly woman who, at that unusual hour, was washing down the dingy staircase, and whom Anne-Hilarion was obliged to ask to let him pass.
"Bless my soul!" ejaculated she, turning in clumsy surprise. "And what are you doing here by yourself, my little gentleman?"