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By noon he was almost his old self, and even Marguerite's persuasion could not keep him within doors. His strength had not fully returned, but he was able, by resting frequently, and leaning on her arm, to go to the central part of the island, and get a good view of the wonderful berg. As they looked upon it, the grinding ceased.
Marguerite's sympathetic joy was as natural as touching; she must have thought Berquin safe; he was free and in the service of one who was fundamentally a sovereign-prince, though living in France and in dependence upon the King of France, whose sister he had just married.
At last, anxious on Marguerite's account, and fearing lest her uncle might suspect her of complicity in a plot to secure his presence on board, and wreak his vengeance on her as well, Claude resolved on a compromise. "Hear me, Sieur," he said firmly, in a voice which commanded attention. "I love your niece, as you know, and I would follow her though you took her to the end of the world.
Would he like this man to be Marguerite's Guardian, and yet proved to stand in no degree of relationship towards her, however disconnected and distant? No. But these were not considerations to come between him and fidelity to the dead. Let him see to it that they passed him with no other notice than the knowledge that they had passed him, and left him bent on the discharge of a solemn duty.
However, Marguerite's pleasure in seeing her friends was a little moderated when she saw the expense which that pleasure entailed, and especially the necessity she was sometimes in of asking me for money.
Here Marguerite's fortitude gave way, and she indulged in a flood of tears, while Hirzel looked at her with the masculine helplessness usual on such occasions, and indeed it seemed to cost the fine tender-hearted fellow an effort to keep from joining in them too.
"Good night, Flora Macdonald," she murmured in her deep voice in Marguerite's ear, put masculine arms round her, and kissed her. It was a truly remarkable bit of male impersonating, as George had to admit, though he resented it. Then she gave a short, harsh laugh. "Good night, old Agg," said Marguerite, with sweet responsiveness, and smiled ingenuously at George.
Madame de Fondege contented herself with pressing Mademoiselle Marguerite's hands and faltering: "What a misfortune! So young so sudden! It is frightful!" And, as she received no reply, she added, with an air of sorrowful dignity: "I dare not ask your full confidence, my dear unfortunate child. Confidence can be born only of long acquaintance and mutual esteem. But you will learn to know me.
"I have brought an agent from D'Aulnay and D'Aulnay's child into our fortress," said Madame La Tour, speaking toward Marguerite's silent cover, under which the girl made no sign of being more than a hidden animal. Her stern face traveled from mother back to tiny body. There is nothing more touching than the emaciation of a baby.
Marguerite's response was inaudible, she was so overcome with emotion. The driver had just turned the corner of the Route de la Revolte; and it was not long before he checked his panting horse. "Look, mademoiselle," said Madame Ferailleur again, "this is our home."
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