The exquisitely-ordered room certainly bore no sign of recent occupation nor of hurried flight. The spotless bed, new clothed, looked as if no one had ever slept therein; every chair was in its place, and the dimity-hung dressing-table, whose glass had reflected—how short a time ago?—Anne's childish countenance, seemed primly to reproach the intruder for his suspicions. Yet a chill despair invaded the Frenchman's heart. All had been indeed well planned!
Mlle. Angèle stood regarding him with a curious smile on her round, comfortable face as he walked mechanically to the bow-window in which, with a little space round it, stood the dressing-table. And La Vireville was there almost a score of seconds, looking down at the polished boards at something half hidden by the folds of dimity, before he realised at what he was staring—at a goldfish slowly swimming round and round in a glass bowl.
He stooped and picked it up, and, without speaking, faced Mlle. de Chaulnes, holding it out a little towards her. Then, still silent, he went past her and downstairs, the glass dangling from his hand, and water and fish swinging violently in their prison. Mme. de Chaulnes was still bent over her needlework as he set his discovery down in front of her.
"A sign of a somewhat hurried departure, Madame, I think," he said quietly. "I conceive the child would hardly be likely to leave this willingly behind, nor would there be any reason why he should—if he were returning to his grandfather's house, as you allege."
"You should be in the secret service, Monsieur,' was all that Mme. de Chaulnes vouchsafed, but she looked at the little captive and compressed her lips.
"Thank you, Madame," retorted the émigré, seating himself at a little distance. "I leave that trade henceforward to your sex. It is only recently that one has become aware of your talents in that direction—talents rather unusual in one of your birth."
The old lady was quite unruffled. "If it is your intention, Monsieur, to remain here to insult us, of course you can do so with impunity. We cannot eject you. Otherwise I would suggest your returning to London, if you wish to see the little boy . . . or else continuing your interrupted journey to Jersey, and relieving the impatience of the Prince de Bouillon."
La Vireville, though he received this stroke with a steady bearing, had nevertheless a somewhat numb sensation, for of course her knowledge of his destination almost certainly meant that Anne had been talking.
"Ah, you know me?" he asked carelessly.
"You could not expect our little visitor to be tongue-tied, especially on a subject so interesting to him as M. le Chevalier de la Vireville."