"Yes, if you don't mind"—after a moment's racking of his brain to think of anything that might keep the boy occupied. "I wish you would unpack my valise—just the things that I shall want to-night."
Roy was delighted and went off at full speed. In the passage he found himself face to face with Lucille, and all but rushed into her arms. Lucille drew back.
"I say! Oh, I beg your pardon, mademoiselle. I'm going to unpack for Den. He's just floored; can't even play chess. It's all this horrid beastly bother, having to come to Verdun, you know. He never used to be like that. Den was always up to anything. What have you got there?" as she held up one hand. "A letter!"
"It is medicine for Monsieur le Capitaine—from England," Lucille said, with a look of heartfelt pleasure.
"It really is from England! Won't he be glad? Where did you get it from? You shall give it to him yourself. Yes; I declare you shall."
Roy flung open the salon door, and announced, "Here's Mademoiselle de St. Roques. Den, she's got something for you! Guess what it is. Come in, Mademoiselle."
Ivor stood up, not grateful to Roy at this moment.
"Pray take a seat," he urged.
"It's a letter—a letter—a letter from England," cried the boy.
"You have brought this from the post?" asked Denham, as he received from her hand a folded and sealed packet.