"My boy!" the odd little figure in the flannel gown leaned farther out, and the dark cropped head was turned one way and the other, listening. "Go round into the north wood and wait as near papa's window as you can. I will go down to him. I think he cannot be asleep; he must be thinking of you." "Merci!" said Angelot, and walked away. But he did not go into the wood. He stole round very gently to where, in spite of the moon, he saw a light shining in Monsieur Joseph's uncurtained window. The guardian dog rubbed himself against his legs as he stood there. Monsieur Joseph's room was panelled and furnished with the plainest wood. His bed was in the alcove at the back; the only ornament was the portrait of his wife, a dark, Italian-looking woman, which hung surrounded by guns, pistols, and swords, over the low stone mantelpiece. It was just midnight, but Monsieur Joseph was not in bed. He looked a quaint figure, in a dressing-gown and a tasselled night-cap, and he sat at the table writing a long letter. He started when Riette touched the door, and Angelot saw that his hand moved mechanically towards a pair of pistols that lay beside him. Monsieur Joseph did not trust entirely to his dogs for defence. In she came, with bare white feet stepping lightly over the polished floor. Angelot moved back a pace or two that he might not hear what they said to each other. When Monsieur Joseph hastily opened the window, Riette had been sent back summarily to her room, and Angelot was waiting halfway to the wood. "Come in, Ange! why do you stand there?" the little uncle exclaimed under his breath. "Sapristi, how do you know that you are not watched?" "I think not, Uncle Joseph. And I fancy the fellows who caught me will hardly follow me here," said Angelot, stepping into the room. "You will forgive me for coming?" "Where could you go? Come, come, tell me everything. Why--what did those devils of police want with you? Shut the window and draw the curtain--there, now we are safe. I was just writing to César d'Ombré. Do you know--here is a secret--he means to get away to England, and from there to the Princes. He is right; there is not much to be done here. You shall go with him!" "Shall I?" said Angelot, vaguely. "Well, Uncle Joseph--it does not much matter where I go." Joseph de la Marinière swore his biggest oath. "What are you staying here for?" he said. "To be caught on one side by a young lady, on the other by the police!" "Give me something to eat, Uncle Joseph, or I shall die of hunger between you all," said Angelot, smiling at him. The little gentleman shook his head. Angelot was not forgiven, not at all; even Riette had hardly been restored to favour, to ordinary meals in polite society.