“No, chérie, they will not die of sorrow,” said the old dame softly. “They will grieve; but they have each other. And they will see you again; and they will know you are safe, with your—husband,” she finished slowly.
Yvonne was silent at the word; but it was not repeated, though she listened for it.
“But how will they know I am safe?” she asked.
“Because,” said the old woman, rising nimbly to her feet, “the sailors are getting up the anchor now, and there is the last boat returning to the land. I go to send word by them, saying where you are. It is too late for any one to follow you now.”
She went to the side of the ship, and called to the boat as it rowed away:
“Will you have the goodness, gentlemen, to send word to Monsieur de Lamourie that his daughter is safe and well, and that she has of her own choice gone into exile for a reason which he will understand; but that she will come back, with love, when things are something changed?”
The boat stopped, and the soldiers listened with astonishment to this strange message. There was a moment of indecision, and she trembled lest the boat should put back. But there was no one aboard with authority to thwart the will of Mademoiselle de Lamourie, so a doubtful voice cried:
“The message shall be delivered.”
The oars dipped again, and the boat ran swiftly toward the landing; and the ship sped smoothly out with the tide.
The hawk face in the red shawl hurried back to Yvonne. The girl, sorely overwrought, had once more buried her head in the quilt, that she might the more unrestrainedly give way to her tears. Though she had no least dream of going back, nevertheless the sending of the message, and the realization that the ship was actually under way, had overwhelmed her. Moreover, it had been for weeks that she had endured the great strain dry-eyed, her breast anguished for the relief of tears. Now that the relief had come, however, it threatened to grow excessive, too exhausting in its violence. Mother Pêche sat beside her, watching for a while in silence. Then she seemed to think the passionate outburst should be checked. But she was far too wise to say so.