"Oh, that's all right," she said comfortably. "Good-night!"

"Good-night, _chérie_!"

His lips were close, so close to her forehead. He could even feel
her hair blow lightly against his face. But he remained rigid as a
sentry--watchful and silent and still.

Once during that long night she stirred in her sleep--stirred and nestled
closer to him with an inarticulate murmur; and he turned, moving for the
first time, and gathered her into his arms, holding her there like an
infant against his breast. Thereafter she slept a calm, unbroken slumber,
serenely unconscious of him and serenely content.

And the man sat motionless, with eyes wide to the darkness, grave and
reverent as the eyes of a warrior keeping his vigil on the eve of
knighthood. But his heart throbbed all night long like the beat of a drum
that calls men into action.




CHAPTER VII

IN THE CAUSE OF A WOMAN


To say that Mademoiselle Gautier was extremely anxious over her young
charge's disappearance would be to state the case with ludicrous
mildness. She was frantic, she was frenzied with anxiety.