With that he tilted his head a little and watched the long wreaths of blue smoke disappear into the misty air.
William was silent, slightly frowning; his expression was thoughtful, as if he considered weighty matters.
The mist seemed to gather and deepen; it broke against the old church and hurried away across the sand dunes, blotting them out.
A little sound like a satisfied sigh, repeated once or twice, came from somewhere near the Prince. He looked round, and saw in the bottom of the boat against which he leaned a large and gaily dressed child, sitting up and rubbing its eyes.
Conscious in a moment of the gaze turned on it, with surprising rapidity it scrambled out of the boat and shook out voluminous skirts.
It wore a tight bodice worked with yellow and red roses, striped sleeves of blue and white, and enormous skirts of a bright green colour that stuck out as if the little person had been thrust through a half apple.
A close lace cap was drawn over its head, and from under it hung long, pale yellow curls, framing a smooth, expressionless face of rosy brown with large china-blue eyes.
The fisherman gave it a stolid nod.
William turned on it the remote but curious gaze of youth surveying infancy.
“Is it a boy?” he asked.