He threw himself back against the rock, and with the movement a certain tension went out of the atmosphere—a tension of which she had been vaguely aware almost without knowing it.
"Ah, yes, I am ambitious," he said. "I am a builder. I have my work to do. And I shall succeed. I shall make that which all the world will envy. I shall be famous." He broke off to laugh exultantly. "Oh, it will be good—good!" he said. "One does not often reach the summit while one is yet young. There are times when it seems too wonderful to be true; and yet I know—I know!"
"Is it a gun?" said Chris.
"Yes, mignonne, a gun! It is also a secret—thine and mine."
She uttered a faint sigh. "I wish it wasn't a gun, Bertie. If it were only an aeroplane, or something that didn't hurt anyone! Of course, you are a soldier and a Frenchman. I couldn't expect you to understand."
He laughed rather ruefully. "But I understand all. And you do not love the French? No?"
"Not so very much," said Chris honestly. "Of course, I'm not being personal. I liked you from the first."
"Ah! But really?" he said.
"Yes, really; and so did Cinders. He always knows when people are nice.
We shall miss you quite a lot when we go home."
"Quite a lot!" Bertrand repeated the phrase musingly as if questioning with himself how much it might mean.