"Je le crois bien!" said Duprèz gravely, nodding his head several times. "Phil-eep is a wise boy! He is the fortunate one! I am not for marriage at all—no! not for myself,—it is to tie one's hands, to become a prisoner,—and that would not suit me; but if I were inclined to captivity, I should like Mademoiselle Güldmar for my beautiful gaoler. And beautiful she is, mon Dieu! . . . beyond all comparison!"
Lorimer was silent, so was Macfarlane. After a pause Duprèz spoke again.
"And do you know, cher Lorimer, when our Phil-eep will marry?"
"I haven't the slightest idea," returned Lorimer. "I know he's engaged, that's all."
Suddenly Macfarlane broke into a chuckling laugh.
"I say, Lorimer," he said, with his deep-set, small grey eyes sparkling with mischief. "'Twould be grand fun to see auld Dyceworthy's face when he hears o't. By the Lord! He'll fall to cursin' an' swearin' like ma pious aunt in Glasgie, or that auld witch that cursed Miss Thelma yestreen!"
"An eminently unpleasant old woman she was!" said Lorimer musingly. "I wonder what she meant by it!"
"She meant, mon cher," said Duprèz airily, "that she knew herself to be ugly and venerable, while Mademoiselle was youthful and ravishing,—it is a sufficient reason to excite profanity in the mind of a lady!"
"Here comes Errington!" said Macfarlane, pointing to the approaching boat that was coming swiftly back from the Güldmars' pier. "Lorimer, are we to congratulate him?"
"If you like!" returned Lorimer. "I dare say he won't object."