The sound of our horses' feet had brought Father Ferdinand to the terrace; and there was a bland smile upon his lip, which told us at once that he had good tidings in store for our welcome.
"She is better, my brother; she is better," he said, taking Monsieur de Villardin's hand as he dismounted. "I trust that all danger is over."
"Thank God!" cried the Duke, and without staying to ask more, he strode on towards his daughter's apartments. I looked after him with no small feelings of interest, and, to tell the truth, I would fain have accompanied him to see the dear little girl who had twined herself round my heart by so many strange ties. As I gazed, however, towards the great staircase, down which from a high window the sun was shining so strongly as almost to dazzle my eyes, I suddenly thought I saw a beautiful boy of four or five years of age cross the end of the staircase and disappear in the passages beyond.
Father Ferdinand was standing beside me, asking me a number of kindly questions concerning myself and Monsieur de Villardin, and I turned to him with some surprise as the boy passed across; but he seemed to have seen nothing; and, doubting my senses, I answered his questions without taking any farther notice, quite sure that if such a being as I fancied I had beheld was in the château, I should soon see him again. I had many a question to ask in return; and he repaid the account I gave of all my adventures, by a fuller detail of what had occurred at Virmont than I had yet received, and by a sketch of the quiet life he had been passing at Dumont with his young charge, of whom he spoke in terms of the most unmingled affection and tenderness.
In about an hour the good priest was called to Monsieur de Villardin; and, although I was somewhat fatigued, I proceeded to visit all my old haunts about the house, with feelings which, I suppose, every one must have experienced on returning, after a long absence, to scenes in which events of deep and lasting interest had taken place. Everything, however, was exactly as I had left it; the very furniture seemed standing in the same places; and, as I went from room to room, nothing would have told me that I had been absent more than five days, instead of five years, from Dumont, except the many changes in my own bosom, which formed a strange contrast with the unaltered situation of everything around me.
As almost all the old servants had accompanied us to Virmont, it was not so long since I had seen them; but I was glad to find that even the time I had been absent had only served to make them welcome my return with the greater pleasure, and, from the kind and yet respectful manner in which they crowded round me, and inquired after my health and happiness, I could almost have fancied myself the young heir returning to his father's house, after some long and perilous expedition. My old friend, Jerome, seemed particularly delighted, and related, with tears in his eyes, how all the household had been affected when they heard that I had been killed on the terrace at Virmont.
In reply to my questions concerning his nephew, he informed me, with joy and pride, that good Jacques Marlot had fully justified me in saving him from the gallows, and had made a happy transition from the state of an indifferent printer to that of a steady, wealthy, respectable farmer. He would be delighted to see me, he added, and to show me all the thriving children with which the good-tempered brunette he had taken to his bosom had blessed his fireside since last I saw him. Promising to go down and pay him a visit the next day, I left the good old man, and returned to the library, intending to wait there for Monsieur de Villardin. I found him there, however, already; and, as he was in conversation with Father Ferdinand, I was immediately about to withdraw, when he beckoned me into the room, saying, with a smile, "A fair lady has been asking for you, De Juvigny, and will not be satisfied till you pay her a visit. Your playfellow has not forgotten you, I can assure you."
I expressed, of course, how delighted I should be to see her; and the Duke immediately led me up to Laura's apartments, where I found her stretched upon a sofa, a good deal changed, it is true, and pale and languid from the illness she had lately undergone. She was still, however, a lively, sweet girl of little more than twelve years old, and, with the same affectionate familiarity in which we had always lived, she put her arms round me whenever I approached, and kissed my cheek as I bent over her.
Monsieur de Villardin smiled. "You see, Laura," he said, "as I told you, he has grown a great man since you saw him, and you must now call him Monsieur le Baron de Juvigny."
"No, no," replied she, half angrily; "he shall never be anything but John Hall with me--the same John Hall who saved my life, and who saved your life, papa."