When they assembled for dinner an hour later Esperance was not present, and Albert began to look uneasy. But they had not long to wait, and when she did appear she was dressed all in white, an embroidered scarf fastened about her waist, and several orchids arranged like a coronet in her hair. At that moment she seemed almost supernaturally beautiful.
"What a pity that Maurice is not here! You are so lovely this evening," said Genevieve.
"Oh," said Esperance smiling, "that is not the only reason you regret his absence?"
Next day they were surprised to get no word from the painter to tell them which boat he would take. It was warm and they had coffee served in the convolvulus bower. The breeze came through an opening from the sea.
"Look! isn't that a pretty boat?" cried out Genevieve.
A white yacht was sailing slowly towards Penhouet. The philosopher got his glasses.
"It is the Princess's flag," he exclaimed.
"Yes, yes," agreed Albert, "it is the Belgian flag. Listen, there is the salute."
Jean ran to the farm, calling back, "I will answer it. All right, M.
Darbois?"
The flag sank and rose three times, then the yacht headed straight for the little bay. Genevieve climbed on a high rock and clapped her hands. "It is he, oh! it is he."