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Solange was prone to be an object of unpleasant inquiries. I called a conveyance and Accompanied her as far as the Rue des Fosses-Saint-Bernard, where I got out and left her to pursue her way alone. All the way we lay mutely wrapped in each other's arms, mingling tears with our kisses. After leaving the carriage, I stood as if rooted to the ground.
Solange looked at him, and he found difficulty, as usual, in concentrating on what she said or on anything but the fathomless eyes. Yet he comprehended that she was speaking, that she was smiling kindly, and yet that speech and smile were both destructive of his immature romance. "He stands not at all, monsieur, except as an instrument. But that way he and I are bound together forever."
Benjamin did so, not that he believed in the virtue of the tooth, for he said his master had a much better talisman than that against Gilet, but because his conscience constrained him to fulfil a commission for which he had been so liberally paid. Madame Hochon went home full of confidence in Saint Solange.
"Saved!" she said; "my father is saved! And this I owe you. Oh, how I love you!" Two weeks later Solange received a letter announcing her father's safe arrival in England. The next day I brought her a passport. When Solange received it she burst into tears. "You do not love me!" she exclaimed. "I love you better than my life," I replied; "but I pledged your father my word, and I must keep it."
The voyage was long and slow and dull. The swarming troops and military men crowded the ship to embarrassing fullness and Solange kept mostly to her cabin. She saw little of De Launay, who had not the run of the upper decks as she had, though his rank was recognized and he was made free of the lounge where the military men congregated. She heard somewhat of him, however, and what she heard angered her still more. It was chiefly in the line of gossip and conjecture as to why Madame de Launay, who seemed to be distinguished because she was Madame de Launay, should be traveling alone, first class, while the famous soldier shared a stuffy hole in the wall with a Chicago merchant. The few women aboard, nurses, Y.
They stopped their playing and stared, and slowly a grin came upon one of them. "Oh, mamma! Look who's here!" he shouted. Half a hundred pairs of eyes swung toward the door and silence fell upon the place. Stepping heedlessly into the ankle-deep muck, Solange walked forward. Her flat-brimmed hat was pulled low over her face and the silk bandanna hid her hair.
"It ain't proper nohow," muttered Sucatash. "That bum is her husband, Dave!" "I don't get this, quite," said Wallace. Then Solange explained, telling them of the strange bargain she had made with De Launay and something of his history.
Breakfast over and the camp cleared up, De Launay took from his packs a second automatic, hanging the holster, a left-hand one, to the bunk. He showed Solange how to operate the mechanism and found that she readily grasped the principle of it, though the squat, flat weapon was incongruous in her small hand. The rifle also he left within her reach.
After assisting in packing the horses, he mounted and rode down the cañon while Solange and Dave resumed their journey in the opposite direction. Sucatash, as soon as he had passed out of sight, quartered up the side of the cañon where sheep trails promised somewhat easier going than the irregular floor of the gulch.
"Mademoiselle," he said with a bow, "I win! You will lift your veil?" Solange nodded. To her it seemed that she had won. Then, with no sign of anxiety or embarrassment she bent her head slightly, slipped the coif back from her hair with one hand and lifted the veil with the other, sweeping them both away from her head with that characteristic toss that women employ on such occasions.
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