She spoke to her husband with so much ease and security that he considered it a sign of confidence in the future. She showed herself so delicately to be a woman by putting herself under his protection, and yet how well she had directed his home during the time he had deserted her! He found out easily where they were. But they were obliged to climb the hill again. Night came on as they were still on the way. The donkey, laden with the two children, went on slowly, and Philippe, who hated the darkness, wanted someone else than "Brains" to lead him.
"You are not tired?" Albert often asked his wife.
"No, no."
But she slackened her pace. Knowing that she was tired, he pitied her still more, cherishing her with that tenderness which surrounds and refreshes its object, as the sea an island. At last the procession arrived at Saint Martin, accompanied by the flocks which were being led to the pond. It was a slow trail of oxen and sheep in the twilight. The shepherds called their separate flocks. They were gathered around the water which flowed through a tree trunk. But even this disorder was tranquil. The peace of evening was descending on the mountain-side.
Once again in the house, Albert asked Elizabeth:
"Now, will you explain to me? All along the way I have thought of nothing else."
"Presently," she said. "When the children are asleep."
VII
THE OPENED EYES
After dinner, which was a cheerful meal, despite the general weariness, she took Marie Louise and Philippe and put them to bed herself. A moment later, she came back alone to the drawing-room, where her husband, standing motionless before the fire, was anxiously awaiting her return. She held out two letters to him. She had the same expression of fear which he had noticed at the Chartreuse de Prémol.
"Read," she murmured. "When they are asleep, I shall come back."