“Right, my boy! Thank you!” said his father, cheerfully.
“Give Génifrède to me, father. My mother is ready to sink.”
Proudly he supported his sister to the boats, carrying her on so rapidly as to prevent the need of any soldier speaking to her.
There was an array of boats along the shore of the bay. Distant firing was heard during the whole time that the prisoners and the troops were embarking.
“They must be very much afraid of us,” observed Denis, looking round, as soon as he had taken his place beside his sister in the boat. “They have given us above a hundred guards, I believe.”
“They are afraid of us,” said Toussaint.
“There is terrible fighting somewhere,” murmured the weeping Margot. “I am afraid Placide is in the midst of it.”
“He is in his duty if he be,” said Toussaint.
Placide had discharged this kind of duty, however, and now appeared to fulfil the other—of sharing the captivity of his parents. He leaped into the boat, breathless, after it had pushed off from the shore.
“In time, thank God!” gasped he.