The autocrat felt for her whip in its accustomed place, and armed herself with it.
"Pardon us for disturbing you, tante-gra'mère," said her grand-nephew, "but I am obliged to carry you into the attic."
"Is the sun up?" cried the little voice.
"The water is, madame," answered Peggy.
"If you wait for the sun, tante-gra'mère," urged her grand-nephew's wife, "you will drown here."
"Do you tell me I will drown in my own bed? I will not drown. Where is Wachique?"
"She is carrying your chairs into the attic, tante-gra'mère."
"My chairs gone to the attic in my lifetime? And who has claimed my dower chest and my linen?"
"All your things are safely removed except this bedstead, madame," declared Angélique's mother. "They were set down more carefully than my china."
"How long have I been asleep?"