"Well, I'd rather it cried than have it suffocated, as it infallibly would have been but for me. Baby, in future years you may thank your uncle Léon for saving your life. Perhaps if I whistle it will stop howling. I'll try," said Léon, whistling, in which art he was a great adept.
But whistling had no effect on the baby, unless it was to make it cry louder, and Léon was in despair, and the baron getting furious, until it suddenly occurred to the former to jump the child up and down, as he had seen Mathilde do. This was successful; as long as Léon danced it about it was quiet; the moment he stopped it began to cry.
"I wish old Pierre joy if he has to spend the next twenty-four hours in this way. Drive on, Arnaut; my arms are aching so I can't keep this game up much longer," said Léon, as they entered the village of Carolles, where, luckily for them, all the inhabitants had already gone to bed, and they met no one till they reached the place where the yacht was lying.
A boat was waiting to take Léon on board with Pierre and the English carpenter, to whom Léon spoke in English, asking him if he were quite sure the baby would be well looked after where he proposed to place it, and on Smith's answering that he was certain it would, Léon turned to the baron, who did not understand a word of English, and told him he need have no anxiety about the child.
"All right; I don't want to know where you are going to take it; make any arrangements you like. If you want more money than I have given you, let me know and you shall have it. When do you expect to be back here, Léon?"
"Oh, not for a month at least; I shall keep away till all the fuss Mathilde will make about the baby is over; meanwhile, if you change your mind and want the baby back, write to me at my agent's and he will forward your letter. Adieu."
And Léon, who had handed the baby to Pierre as soon as they met, now kissed his brother on both cheeks and then sprang into the boat. Smith pushed her off and sculled them across the moonlit sea to the yacht, the baron watching them until they reached her and the boat was drawn up to its davits, when he turned and drove back to the château, wondering greatly how the baroness would bear the loss of her baby, and fearing a very bad quarter of an hour was in store for him when she learnt what had become of it.
A stiff breeze was blowing, but with wind and tide in her favour the yacht sailed smoothly across the Channel, all on board her, except the baby, being too inured to the sea to feel ill, and, luckily, the movement of the yacht seemed to lull the child to sleep. When she woke Pierre was always at hand with some milk, so that she was scarcely heard to cry during the whole passage, spending the time in sleeping and eating, and thereby enabling Pierre to earn for himself the character of a first-rate nurse.
From time to time during the next day Léon came into the cabin to look at his tiny charge, for whom an impromptu cradle had been made with some pillows in an easy chair, and who seemed to have the happy knack of adapting herself to circumstances, for she slept quietly on, with a smile on her little face, all unconscious of the waves from which a few planks divided her.
"Poor little mite; I hope they'll be kind to her, Smith, these friends of yours. I am half sorry I brought her, though the baron wished it," said Léon, as he left the cabin; but the next moment he was whistling on deck as though no such thing as the baby existed.