"Here are two pairs of eyes pleading with you," said my father. "I must say that your plan is a most tempting one, if it could be carried out, and we are in a better position to make such an escape than many others, being so near the sea, and having a good deal of wealth laid by in jewels against a day of need. But, my son, let me most earnestly impress upon your mind the great need of caution in speech even among ourselves. Though all of our household are faithful, so far as I know, yet they are always liable to be tampered with, and we are never safe from spies and eavesdroppers. Such a speech as yours about the king, if reported, would be our utter ruin. Let me beg you, for all our sakes, to be careful."
I saw Andrew clinch his hand and set his teeth hard at the idea of such care being needful; and indeed it was a new care for him. Times were not very good in England just then, but they were far better than with us.
We separated, to prepare for supper. I dressed myself in my very best, to do honor to my cousin's arrival, though I was quite conscious, when I looked into my little mirror, that I did not look nearly so well in my fine damask gown and lace cap as I did in the gray-blue homespun which was my ordinary morning wear. Grace would sit up in bed to arrange my cap and lace my stays herself, and she drew them so tight. I could hardly breathe.
The next morning I was sent down to Father Simon's cottage with a weighty message—no less important than this: that there would be a celebration of the Holy Supper, as we always called it, that very night, in the vaults under the lonely grange, which stood in a hollow of our domain. Simon was to send word to certain of the faithful at Sartilly and Granville.
Andrew, who had already as it were taken possession of me, would go with me, and though Mrs. Grace demurred at such a freedom, he had his way. He always has had a great knack of getting his own way, partly, I think, because he goes on that way so quietly, without ever contradicting any one.
I did not go by the lane this time, but through the orchard, over the heathy knoll, where my father and myself had had such an important conversation, and down the little ravine which the stream had made in its passage to the sea.
It was a somewhat scrambling walk, and I liked it all the better for that. My ostensible errand was a search for fresh eggs, so I carried my little straw basket on my arm. I had a password in which to communicate my errand, and, meeting one of the old men who was to be summoned, I used it.
"Jean Martin, my father bids me ask you if the old grange will do to store the apples in?"
The old man's face lighted up, and he took off his hat.
"When should they be stored, mademoiselle?" he asked.