With her arms hanging listlessly by her side, her hands crossed behind her, Miss Ville-Handry stood there motionless, like a statue. She felt in her heart that Daniel’s resolution was not to be shaken.
Then he said in a gentle voice,—
“I am going, Henrietta; but I leave you a friend of mine,—a true and noble friend, who will watch over you. You have heard me speak of him often,—Maxime de Brevan. He knows my wishes. Whatever may happen, consult him. Ah! I should leave more cheerfully if you would promise me to trust this faithful friend, to listen to his advice, and to follow his directions.”
“I promise you, Daniel, I will obey him.”
But a rustling of the dry leaves interrupted them.
They turned round. A man was cautiously approaching them.
“My father!” cried Henrietta.
And, pushing Daniel towards the gate, she begged him to flee.
To remain would only have been to risk a painful explanation, insults, perhaps even a personal collision. Daniel understood that but too well.
“Farewell,” he said to Henrietta, “farewell! Tomorrow you will receive a letter from me.”