Not till long afterwards did she know that this man had crossed the
Channel only that day, and that he proposed to re-cross it on the morrow
because of the trouble in a child's eyes that had moved him to
compassion.

They spent the next half-hour in an engrossing discussion as to the best
means to be adopted for Cinders' safe transit, and when Chris went to bed
at last she was so full of the scheme that she forgot after all to cry
herself to sleep over the thought of her _preux chevalier_ drawing his
sand-pictures in solitude.

She dreamed instead that he and the Englishman with the level, grey eyes
were fighting a duel that lasted interminably, neither giving ground,
till suddenly Bertrand plunged his sword into the earth and abruptly
walked away.

She tried to follow him, but could not, for something held her back. And
so presently he passed out of her sight, and turning, she found that the
Englishman had gone also, and she was alone.

Then she awoke, and knew it was a dream.




PART I