“But I did hear, Uncle Pierre, I did! I did! I did! Aunt Tatiana had been crying--at least I think she must have been, because her eyes looked bright as my blue marbles, and Uncle Jean said to her in Russian, ‘Don’t be silly, _doushka_,’ and then he kissed her; and she rubbed her nose on his coat and said, ‘It’s dreadful, Jeannot. If Basil arrives now, what shall we do?’ and then Uncle Jean said, ‘He can’t arrive before forty-eight hours, and by that time the _Sarcelle_ will be far out to sea!’ and then he dragged her to the balcony to make her look down at the yacht, and I ran away on all-fours so they couldn’t see me, and I went quick to Garrassime, who was awful angry with me for telling him. Now give me a ride on your shoulder, Uncle Pierre, all around the quadrangle, to reward me for telling you.” “I’ll be hanged if I do!” was on the abbé’s lips, but Piotr was to be conciliated just then, and so he said instead: “I will give you a ride, but on condition that you promise to forget all this nonsense. Promise, Piotr, solemnly, that you will not say another word about it to any one. You misunderstood the whole thing, I assure you.” Piotr shook his head twice from side to side. He was beginning to think that perhaps, after all, he had been mistaken, and yet not quite; but a ride on his uncle’s broad shoulder was tempting, so he suddenly held out his square little paw. “_Tope-là!_” he gravely proposed. “I’ll not speak to anybody about Papa’s coming, Uncle Pierre; but I can’t help knowing that he’s coming.” “Good Lord!” murmured the abbé under his breath, “there’s stubbornness for you!” and, picking up the delighted child, he started on his equine course at a brisk amble, his soutane blown by the wind against his splendid form, his sash flying behind him in the gayest way possible, although his heart felt sore indeed. Marguerite descended from her high perch, not at a jump as she was wont to do, but very wearily. She felt tired--something new to her--and very sad; but her brave eyes were clouded by no tears, and her lips were absolutely steady. Her lesson in self-repression had been learned long ago; besides, not one thought of her own future, after the tragedy that had changed everything, had as yet entered her head, which she held just as straight as ever.