"Not nearly. Anne, you are a soldier's son, and you must learn to bear disappointment--worse things perhaps. We cannot help your father in that way." Again M. de Soucy struggled with something in his speech. "I do not know, Anne, how we can help him." It was, fortunately, not given to the Comte de Flavigny to read his friend's mind, but he perceived sufficiently from his manner that something was not right. He reflected a moment, and then, remembering the celestial intervention of the afternoon, said: "Perhaps I had better ask la Très-Sainte Vierge to take care of him. I do ask her every day, but I mean especially." "You could ask her," said de Soucy, bitter pain in his eyes. "You have no picture of our Lady, no statue?" "Not one." "It does not matter," said the little boy. "Elspeth sometimes takes away my image of her too. They do not know her over here, but that," he added, with his courteous desire to excuse, "is because she is French. . . . M. le Vicomte, I think that after all I had better ask St. Michel, because he is a soldier. It would be more fitting for him, do you not think? Yes, I will pray St. Michel to take great care of my Papa, and then I shall not mind that the money is not enough and that I cannot go to France to see him." So, standing where he was, his eyes tight shut, he besought the leader of the heavenly cohorts to that end, concluding politely if mysteriously, "Perhaps I ought to thank you about Elspeth." "I had better go back to Grandpapa?" he then suggested. M. de Soucy nodded. "I will come with you," he said. (4) Anne-Hilarion had been gone for so short a time that he had not even been missed, for the domestics were still occupied about Elspeth's accident, and Mr. Elphinstone, though returned to the library, had not found the farewell letter. The only surprise, therefore, which the old gentleman showed was that his grandson should be accompanied by M. de Soucy. He got up from a drawing of one of the gates of Delhi that he was making for his memoirs, and welcomed the intruders. "Anne has been paying me a visit," said the Frenchman. "He wanted to go to France again, but I have persuaded him to put it off for a little. Can I have a word alone with you, sir?" "Did you not get my letter, Grandpapa?" broke in Anne-Hilarion, clinging to Mr. Elphinstone's hand. "I left it on the mantelpiece, behind the little heathen god. I did not run away, foi de gentilhomme!" "Send him out of the room!" signalled the émigré. But Anne-Hilarion, having perceived his grandfather's occupation, was now in great spirits. "Let me look at the livre des Indes, Grandpapa!" he exclaimed. "I so much love the pictures. Faites-moi voir les éléphants!" And he jumped up and down, holding on to the arm of his grandfather's chair. But the old man had followed M. de Soucy to the window. "What is it, Monsieur?" he whispered. "Bad news from France?"