"No. Why?"
"Why not?" Nanette's tone was enigmatic.
"I don't understand."
"At any rate, she is better off here than yonder in France, if tidings be true," said the other irrelevantly.
"Ah, ma belle France!" murmured the old man regretfully. "How she is torn within—threatened from without! But fortunately she has her defenders," his voice thrilled, "brave men who have thronged to her needs. I suppose," he continued abruptly, "it's to arrange about the new ship that brings the Seigneur once more to the island?"
"I suppose so," assented the other briefly.
"A true Frenchman, Pierre Laroche, your father, has shown himself, in giving one of his best ships to the cause! Although perhaps he would not have been so ready," thoughtfully, "had not the Paris Assembly seen fit to appoint André Desaurac in command of all the vessels to guard the coast against the intrigues of the French royalists with foreign powers and aliens! Well, well, he will find here many old friends!"
"Yourself, for example, Father, who helped him in the courts to establish his right to his name," said the young woman quickly.
"And you, Mistress Nanette," the kindly eyes lighting with a curious, indulgent look, "who went to the Mount alone, unaided, to—"
A frown gathered on the dark, handsome face of the girl. "Unaided?" she said, staring at the sparkles on the waves before her.