“Don’t waste time so, child; you hinder my dressing.”
He allowed himself to be dressed, and made no further opposition till he found himself at the balcony of the next room.
“Here is your new coach,” said Euphrosyne, “and plenty of servants:” showing him how one of the soldiers and old Raphael stood below to receive the chair, and the abbess herself was in waiting in a distant walk, beside the wicket they were to pass through.
Of course, the old gentleman said he could never get down that way; and he said something about dying on his own threshold—this time, however, in a very low voice. But, in the midst of his opposition, Euphrosyne seated herself in the chair, and was let down. When she could no longer hear his complaints, but was standing beckoning to him from the grass-plat below, he gave up all resistance, was let down with perfect ease, and carried in the chair, followed by all the white members of his household, through the gardens, and up the alley where Afra was awaiting them. There was a grey sister peeping from behind every blind as they crossed the garden, and trembling with the revived fears of that terrible night of ninety-one, when they had fled to the ships. It was some comfort to them to see old Raphael busy with rake and knife, repairing the damage done to the bed under the balcony—all trampled as it was. Each nun said to herself that Raphael seemed to have no fears but that the garden would go on as usual, whatever disturbance was abroad.
“Have you seen him?” asked Euphrosyne eagerly of her friend, the moment they met.
“Oh yes. You shall see him too, from my window, if they will but talk on till we get there. He and the Commissary, and some of the Commissary’s officers, are in the rose-garden under my window. Make haste, or they may be gone.”
“We must see grandpapa settled first.”
“Oh yes; but I am so afraid they may be gone! They have been pacing the alley between the rose-trees this hour nearly—talking and arguing all the time. I am sure they were arguing; for they stopped every now and then, and the Commissary made such gestures! He looked so impatient and so vexed!”
“And did he look vexed, too?”
“Not in the least angry, but severe. So quiet, so majestic he looked, as he listened to all they said! and when he answered them—Oh, I would not, for all the island, have his eyes so set upon me!”