"If I had a mind, little mother, there might be something on it. Even my head is not as hard as I have been accustomed to boast, for either that confounded bullet last spring, or the rocks of Houat, have played the deuce with the inside of it." "But, my son, you are daily recovering your memory," said Mme. de la Vireville encouragingly. "Yes," agreed Fortuné, "and one thing I remember is this--that I promised poor René de Flavigny to look after Anne if he were killed. And I am convinced that he was killed." His mother looked at his gaunt visage and hollow eyes. "Fortuné, you are scarcely in a fit state to look after anyone at present, you must admit that. And as to the fate of M. de Flavigny, surely that could be ascertained by inquiry?" "Doubtless, if I had not entirely forgotten his address in London, and even the name of his father-in-law with whom he lived. I have tried times without number to remember it," said La Vireville, frowning. "It was a square, and there was a statue of a general on horseback in it. . . . Perhaps Monseigneur would know?" As the Bishop, however, had not once set foot in London he was not of much topographical assistance. But now, having elicited what her son had on his mind, Mme. de la Vireville soon perceived what edifices he was ready to build on the subject of Anne-Hilarion's bereavement. Anne should come and stay with them in Jersey when his grandfather could spare him; Anne should do this, that, and the other. . . . She could not doubt the stimulus it was to Fortuné to feel that Anne would have a real claim on him, and he on the boy. He had long ago made up his mind that the Marquis could not have survived, and though his death caused him real sorrow, so many friends and acquaintances had come to violent ends since '89 that there was little sensation of shock about the loss. Fortuné did not tell his mother, for fear of wounding her, that, but for Anne and his own promise to René he might possibly never have tried to escape that night, but she was not far from guessing it. It would have needed a miracle to enable her to guess that the thought of another person had also counted for something in that episode--and this fact he was still further from revealing to her. (4) The required information about M. de Flavigny was supplied, in the end, from a quite unexpected source. For, walking down High Street one morning, Mme. de la Vireville saw two British naval officers in front of her. One of the backs seemed familiar. So, rather shamefacedly, she hurried after it, and breathed behind it an apologetic, "De grâce, Monsieur!" Mr. Francis Tollemache checked, looked over his shoulder, stopped altogether, turned round, and saluted. His companion did the same. "At your service, Madame," he responded. "Madame de la Vireville, I believe?" "Oui, M. le Lieutenant," said she, a little breathlessly. "Et si Monsieur voudrait, il pourrait me rendre un grand, un très grand service!"