And soon to those in the little fort, when the thud and reverberation of the _Lark's_ cannon had ceased, came insistently that sound which in all this desperate business had never been absent from their ears--the great voice of the sea, counting out the hours that were left, till those ears should be deaf to tide and wind for ever. So, after all the hours of tension (for it was now nearly one o'clock in the afternoon), the supreme moment of humiliation and disaster came at last. Charles de Sombreuil slowly detached his sabre, half-drew the blade from its sheath, kissed it reverently, and gave it into Tallien's hands, and Tallien put it into those of Rouget de Lisle. Then the soldiers surrounded the young hussar, and he was lost to sight. The expedition to Quiberon was over. And as the grenadiers in their blue and white came pouring into the enclosure of the fort, La Vireville (like not a few others) broke his sword under his heel and flung it over the wall into the sea. CHAPTER XXVIII MR. TOLLEMACHE AS AN ARCHANGEL (1) "Grandpapa," said Anne-Hilarion, "please to tell me what is 'ven-al-ity'?" Mr. Elphinstone looked up. "Eh, what, child?" "I read in this great book," proceeded Anne-Hilarion, "This ven-al-ity co-in-cid-ing with the spirit of in-de-pend-ence and en-cro-ach-ment common to all the Pol-y-gars pro-cur-ed them----" "God bless my soul, what book have you got hold of?" demanded the old man; but before he could pull himself out of his arm-chair to see, there was a knock at the library door, and Elspeth stood revealed. "Maister Anne's bedtime," she observed severely, and stood waiting. Almost at the same moment Baptiste appeared at her side, in his hands a salver, and on the salver a china bowl. "M. le Comte mangera-t-il avant de monter, ou dans sa chambre?" he inquired. M. le Comte looked from his retainers to his grandfather. His preference was so clearly visible in his expression that Mr. Elphinstone, whipping off his spectacles, said: "He will have his bread-and-milk down here to-night, Baptiste. I will ring for you, Elspeth, when he has finished." Mrs. Saunders retired, with a tightening of her tight lips, and the old valet, advancing victoriously, placed the steaming bowl on the table beside the volume of Orme's _British India_ which had been engaging the child's attention. Anne-Hilarion, who had screwed himself round in his chair, turned his dangling legs once more tablewards. For a few minutes nothing was heard in the large, book-lined room, this July evening, but the noise of a spoon stirring the contents of a bowl, and the old gentleman by the fireless hearth went on with his reading. But presently the spoon grew slower in its rounds, and Mr. Elphinstone, looking up, beheld a large silent tear on its way to join the bread-and-milk. "My child, what is the matter?" he exclaimed in dismay. "Is it too hot?"