“I have just come from Dr. Perrin's, David,”—he added, “May I call you so? Well, then, I have just come from Dr. Perrin's, and he says you may be moved to Les Îles this very afternoon. Why, upon my word,” he exclaimed, staring at me, “you don't look pleased. One would think you were going to the calabozo.”
“Ah,” said Nick, slyly, “I know. He has tasted freedom, Monsieur, and Madame la Vicomtesse will be in command again.”
I flushed. Nick could be very exasperating.
“You must not mind him, Monsieur,” I said.
“I do not mind him,” answered Monsieur de St. Gré, laughing in spite of himself. “He is a sad rogue. As for Hélène—”
“I shall not know how to thank the Vicomtesse,” I said. “She has done me the greatest service one person can do another.”
“Hélène is a good woman,” answered Monsieur de St. Gré, simply. “She is more than that, she is a wonderful woman. I remember telling you of her once. I little thought then that she would ever come to us.”
He turned to me. “Dr. Perrin will be here this afternoon, David, and he will have you dressed. Between five and six if all goes well, we shall start for Les Îles. And in the meantime, gentlemen,” he added with a stateliness that was natural to him, “I have business which takes me to-day to my brother-in-law's, Monsieur de Beauséjour's.”
Nick leaned over the gallery and watched meditatively his prospective father-in-law leaving the court-yard.
“He got me out of a devilish bad scrape,” he said.