“What is the matter?” asked Yvonne, in swift alarm.
“My old legs need stretching. I was too long still,” said Mother Pêche.
“No, you are troubled at something. Tell me at once,” cried Yvonne, rising also, and letting her cloak drop.
“Yes, chérie, yes!” answered the old woman, much agitated, and not daring to deceive her. “I am much troubled. That was Le Fûret, Vaurin’s man, whom Captain Grande knocked down that day at the forge. He would do anything. He would lie even to you!”
Yvonne grew pale to the lips.
“Then you think Paul is not”—she began, in a strained voice.
“I think he may not be in this ship,” interrupted Mother Pêche hurriedly. “But I’ll go right now and find out. Wait here for me.” And she went off briskly, poking through the confusion with her staff.
She knew men, this old dame; and she quickly found out what she wanted to find out. Trembling with apprehension, she came back to Yvonne—and went straight to the point.
“No, no, dear heart!” she began. “He is not here. He is on the other ship yonder. I have a plan, though”—
But there was no use going on; for Yvonne had dropped in a faint.