"He won't. He'll be there. He wants to make sure he gets you." Flip hugged Ariel for comfort. After dinner they went upstairs and sat on Paul's bed. "I'll go in five minutes," Paul said, staring unhappily down at the floor. "Paul--" Flip started. "What?" "I want to give you something to take with you for good luck." "I need good luck," Paul said. "Well, in the old days a knight always carried the handkerchief of his lady. Would you like to carry my handkerchief?" "Yes," Paul said. "It's under my pillow. But it's a clean one." "I'll get it and then I'll go." Paul got up and crossed the hall to Flip's room. She followed close at his heels and stood in the doorway, and when he had reached the head of the big bed and was feeling under her pillow for the handkerchief she slammed the door on him, the door that did not open from the inside. "Flip! What are you doing!" Paul cried. "Open the door!" "No," Flip called softly through the door. "I'm going to put on your ski clothes and go to the chateau." And she rushed into Paul's room and pulled on his brown ski trousers and red sweater, and pulled his striped stocking cap over her hair. "Let me out! Flip, you devil! Let me out!" Paul cried, pounding against the door. Flip took a hasty look at herself in the mirror as she pulled on Paul's mittens.--I'll be all right in the dark, she told herself. And "Good-bye, Paul," she called through the door to him. "I'll be back with the picture as fast as I possibly can." Ignoring his frantic shouts she hurried down the stairs. She was afraid that Georges Laurens would hear the commotion and come to investigate, but as she tiptoed past his study, she saw that he was deep in concentration, and Paul's cries were falling on deaf ears. Madame Perceval had taken Ariel with her so she need not be afraid that the bulldog would arouse Monsieur Laurens or even Thérèse. She let herself out of the house. It was one of the coldest evenings of the winter and the wind slapped at her face like a cruel hand. Clouds were scudding across the moon and their shadows on the snow seemed alive and Flip kept jumping with fear as the shadows moved and made her think they belonged to some animate creature. "He is not Paul's father, he is not Paul's father, please God make him not be Paul's father," she kept saying under her breath. The chateau loomed up, a gaunt ruin. A night bird flew out of one of the windows with a cry that sent Flip's heart into her mouth, and various shutters and loose boards were banging in the vicious wind. She stood still on the snow for a long time before she dared to go on. Then she almost ran, jumping sidewise like a startled pony to avoid the shadows that moved so strangely across the white ground. Although she was expecting it, when she heard a whispered "Alain" her tense body jerked and she stopped stock still. "Alain," the voice came again, and the man moved out from the shadows. "Here I am," Flip whispered.