"
"Your father received kindnesses at English hands, after his escape,
like many others."
"Yes, and he was too old to repay them by doing the country any
service himself. He would have done it if he could--"
D'Arragon paused, looking steadily at the tall old man who listened
to him with averted eyes.
"My father was one of those," he said at length, "who did not think
that in fighting for Bonaparte one was necessarily fighting for
France."
Sebastian held up a warning hand.
"In England--" he corrected, "in England one may think such things.
But not in France, and still less in Dantzig."
"If one is an Englishman," replied D'Arragon with a smile, "one may
think them where one likes, and say them when one is disposed. It
is one of the privileges of the nation, monsieur."
He made the statement lightly, seeing the humour of it with a
cosmopolitan understanding, without any suggestion of the
boastfulness of youth. Desiree noticed that his hair was turning
grey at the temples.
"I did not know," he said, turning to her, "that Charles was in
Dantzig, much less that he was celebrating so happy an occasion. We
ran against each other by accident in the street. It was a lucky
accident that allowed me to make your acquaintance so soon after you
have become his wife."
"It scarcely seems possible that it should be an accident," said
Desiree. "It must have been the work of fate--if fate has time to
think of such an insignificant person as myself and so small an
event as my marriage in these days.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37