He laughed. "You shall have her."
She started up in delight.
"You mean that you—?"
"Clarissa is languishing in a stable in Paris>"
She spoke of Cleofonte and the Signora.
"We must find them, too, Philidor. And Stella—I promised her. We must do something for Stella."
It was growing late. There was a sound in the thicket behind them. They started up and were confronted by the ancien, who hobbled toward them, with his stick and lantern, like Diogenes searching for an honest man.
"God be praised!" he croaked. "You are here. We feared you might have fallen among the rocks."
"Among the roses, Père Guégou. Thy roses—" said
Yvonne, her hand in Philidor's.
The old man stared at them witlessly, then turned and lighted them upon their way.