“Good-bye, Ireland,” Basil said, leaning across to shake hands, and suddenly Ireland, recovering from his joyful surprise, saw that the Prince’s eyes were moist.
“Good-bye ... and take care of her!”
He was gone inside the little building, all alone like the most ordinary of the mortals. A minute later the piqueux, through the row of oak-trees that stood between, glimpsed his tall figure passing down the platform; then the train breathed itself to a second’s stop at the waving of the flag, Basil stepped to the marche-pied of a Pullman, and with a last wave to him disappeared.
CHAPTER XXI
Moonglade, a pale and forthright splendor, deeping
The mountain shadows on the river-flow,
Across the sullen flood’s resistless creeping—
Across the years, the wreckage and the weeping,
You stand, so let them go!
Moonglade, O Moonglade, that my heart doth fill,
Causeway to Avalon unchanging still,
I know, that pass by thee,
The “bowery hollows, crowned with summer sea!”
A year later the “Gamin” and Piotr were returning from a delightful prawn-fishing expedition in the deep rock pools that offer at low tide, especially on granite shores such as those of Plenhöel, miraculous chances for that kind of sport. Haveneaux on shoulder, they stepped briskly along the cliff path, she looking like a little girl in her short striped petticoat and tricot made and worn à la manière des marins, her red béret and rope-soled éspadrilles; he enormously tall and strong for his age, browned by salt water and salt breezes to a very becoming brownness. Behind them Garrassime—who seemed to have stopped getting old during the past twelve months—and Madame Hortense, always placid and comely, carried between them a great square basket fragrant of brine and seaweed, that was quite full of big, frisky bouquins.
“We’ve got a lot!” Piotr remarked, gleefully. “And all of them as long as my hand, aren’t they, little darling Malou?”
“Oh, every bit,” laughed Marguerite. “I’m not going to argue, Piotr.”
“But you don’t seem convinced!”
“Not convinced! You do me an injustice, young man!” remonstrated Marguerite.