Anne put his hand into M. du Châtel's, thinking that he could hardly be an old friend of the fairy godmothers; he looked so much younger than they. M. du Châtel was neatly dressed in black, and he had also very black hair; there was about him nothing remarkable save his particularly light eyes, which, besides looking strange under so dark a thatch, reminded Anne of a goat he had once seen.
It soon appeared that the émigré had come on a visit and was staying the night.
"Then A'd like fine tae ken," said Elspeth indignantly, when she had gathered this piece of information, "hoo it comes that these madams hae a room for him in their hoose and nane for me!" And she brushed Anne-Hilarion's hair as though he were responsible for it, while he, wincing, assured her that he did not know why.
"Mebbe," communed Mrs. Saunders, "they kenned he was comin', and keepit the room for him. Aweel, it's nane o' ma business, nae doot, and A canna get a worrd oot o' that auld witch in the kitchen, but A'll see yon room, or ma name's no' Elspeth Saunders."
And see it she did, at three o'clock that afternoon, when the inmates of Rose Cottage and their visitors were at dinner. She was in no wise rewarded for her investigation of the small apartment—so small, indeed, as hardly to be more than a cupboard—except by the fact, which puzzled her, that the guest who had already occupied it for some hours had made not the least attempt to unpack his little valise. It stood untouched on a chair by the bed, and if Elspeth had pursued her researches a little further she would have made a discovery of real interest—that the bed prepared by those very particular old ladies for M. du Châtel's repose had no sheets on it.
(3)
Downstairs, at the same time, the newcomer was being most friendly and agreeable to Anne-Hilarion over the roast lamb and salad, and suggesting that his little compatriot might like to see something of Canterbury if ces dames would permit, and that, with their approval, he would take him that afternoon to see the great Cathedral, in whose crypt French people—though, to be sure, Huguenots—had worshipped for over a hundred years. Anne replied, politely as ever, but without enthusiasm, that he should be very pleased to accompany him. He was not drawn to M. du Châtel of the goat's eyes. Nor, as he wandered with him later in that lofty nave, was he at all communicative, as he had been to the old ladies on the previous evening, for, after all, M. du Châtel was no friend of his father's, and though his dream was now so dim that he could hardly remember it at all, it had left behind a vague discomfort. He was sorry, somehow, that the émigré had come to Rose Cottage, and when a rather earlier bedtime than usual was suggested to him by Mme. de Chaulnes, who said that he looked tired, he had no objections to offer.
And, being really sleepy, he had no apprehensions as to the night, and did not want the hot posset which Mlle. Angèle was kind enough to bring up to him after he was in bed and Elspeth had left him, though for politeness' sake he sat up and sipped it, while Mlle. Angèle waited and smiled at him, encouraging him to finish it to the last drop. It had a flavour which Anne did not much relish, but having been taught that it was rude to make remarks on the food which was put before him, he said nothing on this point. Yet he was glad when he had finished, and when Mlle. Angèle, kissing him, went away and left him, with only the night-light and his goldfish for company, to that very sound sleep which was stretching out inviting arms to him.