"May I stay on deck with you a little quarter of an hour?" begged Anne, snuggling down by La Vireville's side in the moonlight. "And tell me, please, M. le Chevalier, about Madame your mother, to whom we are going. Is she—is she old?"
"That depends on what you consider old, my pigeon. She does not seem so to me. But perhaps I am old myself; I expect you think so, don't you? Her hair is grey, it is true—but so would mine be, Anne, if I had to look after you much longer."
Anne smiled, recognising this for a jest, not to be taken seriously. He studied his friend, whose bandaged head was bare in the windy moonlight.
"I like your hair," he observed thoughtfully. "But already—is it rude of me to say so?—there are some grey hairs there . . . only a few." He laid a small finger on La Vireville's temple. "I saw them when you were asleep in the cave."
"I have so many cares," sighed the Chouan. "You have seen, Anne, what a quantity of people I have to look after in Brittany. Then there is my mother—and, lately, a certain small boy. . . . And, by the way, it is time that small boy went to bed. We shall not reach St. Helier till morning."
He went off to see what accommodation had been prepared for the child. When he returned, he found Anne giving an account of his adventures to the interested Gosset, who was standing looking down at him with his hands on his hips.
"And now," finished Anne, "M. le Chevalier is going to take me to Mme. de la Vireville in Jersey, and then I shall go home to my Grandpapa in London."
"You seem to have had a stirring time, by gad!" commented the sailor. "But I did not know that you had a wife, La Vireville! Since when are you married, may I ask, and who is the fortunate lady?"
The Frenchman frowned. "You are misinformed," he said shortly. "I have never had a wife. It is my mother to whom I am taking him."
"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed Gosset, struck by the sudden change in his face, and La Vireville turned and walked away.