“Good-bye, Madre,” whispered Vere.
They glided away, the big man and the light-footed child, going on tiptoe with elaborate precaution.
As Hermione looked after them, she said to herself:
“How young Emile is to-night!”
At that moment she felt as if she were much older than he was.
They slipped down to the sea without attracting the attention of Gaspare, got into the little boat, and rowed gently out towards Nisida.
“I feel like a contrabandista,” said Artois, as they stole under the lee of the island towards the open sea—“as if Gaspare would fire upon us if he heard the sound of oars.”
“Quick! Quick! Let us get away. Pull harder, Monsieur Emile! How slow you are!”
Laughingly Artois bent to the oars.
“Vere, you are a baby!” he said.