"A poor boy who lives in the woods, papa!"
But Beppo bent forward and whispered, his words too low for the lad to catch. Whatever his information, the Governor started; the questioning glance on an instant brightened, and his head was thrust forward close to the boy's. A chill seemed to pass over the lad, yet he did not quail.
"Good-by, boy!" said the child, and, leaning from the window, smiled down at him.
He tried to answer, when a hand pulled her in somewhat over-suddenly.
"Drive on!" Again the shrill tones cut the air. "Drive on, I tell you! Diable! What are you standing here for!"
A whip lashed the air and the horses leaped forward. The back wheels of the vehicle almost struck the lad, but, motionless, he continued staring after it. Farther it drew away, and, as he remained thus he discerned, or fancied he discerned, a girl's face at the back—a ribbon that waved for a moment in the moonlight, and then was gone.
Eight years elapsed before next he saw her.