Perhaps all the more, that the benefactor had not returned to claim his reward. She was old enough to know her father’s position and power. A mere adventurer would have availed himself of such a chance to benefit by them. Captain Maynard could not be this.
It made her happy to reflect that he was a gentleman; but sad to think she should never see him again.
Often had these alternations of thought passed through the mind of this fair young creature. They were passing through it that moment, as she stood looking out upon the Tuileries, regardless of the stirring incidents that were passing upon the pavement below.
Her thoughts were of the past: of a scene on the other side of the Atlantic; of many a little episode on board the Cunard steamer; of one yet more vividly remembered, when she was hanging by a rope above angry hungering waves, till she felt a strong arm thrown around her, that lifted her beyond their rage! She was startled from her reverie by the voice of her attendant, uttered in a tone of unusual excitement.
“Look! Lookee yonder, Missy Blanche! Dem Arab fellas hab take a man prisoner! See! dey fotch im this way—right under de winda. Poor fella! Wonda what he been an’ done?” Blanche Vernon bent over the balcony, and scanned the street below. Her eye soon rested on the group pointed out by Sabina.
Half a dozen Zouaves, hurrying along with loud talk and excited gesticulation, conducted a man in their midst. He was in civilian dress, of a style that bespoke the gentleman, notwithstanding its disorder.
“Some political offender!” thought the daughter of the diplomatist, not wholly unacquainted with the proceedings of the times.
It was a conjecture that passed, quick as it had come; but only into a certainty. Despite the disordered dress and humiliating position of the man the young girl recognised her rescuer—he who, but the moment before, was occupying her thoughts!
And he saw her! Walking with head erect, and eyes upturned to the heaven he feared not to face, his glance fell upon a dark-skinned woman with a white toque on her head, and beside her a young girl shining like a Virgin of the Sun!
He had no time to salute them. No chance either, for his hands were in manacles!