"How glad I ought to be that Donald isn't like that," she thought, the remembrance of her frank, sturdy brother rising in vivid contrast in her mind.
When she got back, Mademoiselle Thérèse was enjoying herself thoroughly, recounting the adventure to her own household and to the widower and his sons whom she had called in to add to her audience. She described the whole scene most graphically and with much gesticulation, perhaps also with a little exaggeration.
"The anger of the man when he found he must accompany the officers was herculean," she said, casting up her eyes; "he stormed, he raged, he tore his hair" (Barbara remembered him as almost quite bald!), "he insisted that his son must come too."
"How mean!" the girl cried indignantly.
"But the son," mademoiselle paused, and looked round her audience—"the son," she concluded in a thrilling whisper, "had gone—fled—disappeared. One moment he was there, the next he was nowhere. Whereupon the papa was still more angry, and with hasty words gave an exact and particular description of him in every detail. 'He must be caught,' he shouted, 'he must keep me company.' Such a father!" Mademoiselle rolled her eyes wildly. "Such an inhuman monster repelled me, and—I fled."
Barbara, feeling as if they should applaud, looked round vaguely to see if the others were thinking of beginning; but at that moment she was overpowered by Mademoiselle Thérèse suddenly flinging herself upon her and kissing her on both cheeks.
"This!" she said solemnly, holding Barbara with one hand and gesticulating with the other—"this is the one we must thank for the capture. She directed the landlord—her brains planned the arrest—she will appear against him in court."
"Oh, no!" Barbara cried in distress, "I really can't do that. They have telegraphed for Madame Belvoir's son from Neuilly—he will do. I really could not appear in court."
"But you can speak French quite well enough now—you need not mind about that; and it will be quite an event to appear in court. It is not every girl of your age who can do that."
Mademoiselle spoke almost enviously; but the idea was abhorrent to Barbara, who determined, if possible, to avoid such an ordeal.