"You 'tory, I never! You eatened two yourself, you did," Maggie declared indignantly. "You's a geedy boy—a dedful geedy boy! Isn't he a geedy boy, Ma'm'selle?"
"Never mind, we will get more buns as we go out," said Alexia. "Come now, children. I am tired—my head aches. We will come some other time—to-morrow perhaps—and stay longer. Come now."
They walked away from the water, and gained the broad path leading to the gates. Alexia slackened her pace, and, releasing Floss's hand, but still retaining Maggie's, fell slightly behind, sauntering slowly, playing with the buttons of her cloak, keeping her eyes fixed straight before her. They were passing a seat close to the edge of the path, upon which a man was sitting—a middle-aged, loose-jointed man with gray hair. A bright object lay at his feet—a small ball of gorgeous tints; the child saw it, uttered a delighted cry, and struggled to release her hand. It was released and she started to pick up the prize. It was hardly in her grasp when she screamed out, frightened, for the man with the gray hair had taken hold of her arm, and was speaking to her, not roughly, although his voice was harsh and stern.
"My little one—see, the lady has dropped this paper. Give it to her; and as for this bauble, take it. Go!"
He released her. The child was scared, but she held in one hand the paper he had given to her, in the other the gay-colored ball. He pointed peremptorily after the tall retreating figure of Alexia Boucheafen, and, frightened at his frowning face, the child darted toward "Ma'm'selle."
"Ma'm'selle, Ma'm'selle!" She tugged at the governess's dress, at her hand. "'Ook what he dave me!"—holding up the ball. "Nice, nice man, vewy nice! Floss s'an't have it, he s'ant—Floss a geedy boy. He dived it me for meself. Oh, an' yes!"
With a sudden remembrance of something less absorbing than the ball, she held up the paper—a mere folded scrap. Alexia seized it eagerly, held it fast in her hands, asked almost inaudibly:
"Who gave it to you, child?"
"Him did. You droppened it. Him," said the child, turning round to point. Then she cried out blankly, "Oh, him's gone!"
Miss Boucheafen glanced behind her hastily. The seat by which the gay-colored ball had lain was empty. She opened the paper, and read within it, written in a blood-red color, the one word "Absolved!"