When Euphrosyne returned with the coffee, she found, as Pierre had found before her, Monsieur Revel so engrossed in looking through his spectacles at the water-jar, as to have forgotten what he had to ask and to say.
“You will find the bath ready whenever you want it, grandpapa,” said Euphrosyne, as she placed the little tray before him: “and it is a sweet airy morning.”
“Ay; I must make haste up, and see what is to be done. It is not safe to lie and rest in one’s bed, in this part of the world.” And he made haste to stir his coffee with his trembling hands.
“Oh, you have often said that—almost ever since I can remember—and here we are, quite safe still.”
“Tell the truth, child. How dare you say that we have been safe ever since you remember?”
“I said ‘almost,’ grandpapa. I do not forget about our being in the woods—about—but we will not talk of that now. That was all over a long time ago; and we have been very safe since. The great thing of all is, that there was no L’Ouverture then, to take care of us. Now, you know, the Commander-in-chief is always thinking how he can take the best care of us.”
“‘No L’Ouverture then!’ One would think you did not know what and where Toussaint was then. Why, child, your poor father was master over a hundred such as he.”
“Do you think they were like him? Surely, if they had been like him, they would not have treated us as they did. Afra says she does not believe, anybody like him ever lived.”
“Afra is a pestilent little fool.”
“Oh, grandpapa!”