Part 20 (1/2)
”You took it down, Mademoiselle.”
”Oh, did I?”
”With bewitching grace you did, Mademoiselle. I saw and admired. Will you fetch it, please?”
”Indeed I won't.”
The finality in her voice belied her face, which beamed without a ray of stubbornness or perversity. He did not know how to interpret her; but he felt that he had begun wrong. He half regretted that he had begun at all.
”More depends upon returning that flag than you are probably aware of,”
he presently said in a more serious tone. ”In fact, the life of one of your townsmen, and a person of some importance here I believe, will surely be saved by it. You'd better consider, Mademoiselle. You wouldn't like to cause the death of a man.”
She did not fairly grasp the purport of his words; yet the change in his manner, and the fact that he turned from French to English in making the statement, aroused a sudden feeling of dread or dark apprehension in her breast. The first distinct thought was of Beverley--that some deadly danger threatened him.
”Who is it?” she frankly demanded.
”It's the Mayor, the big man of your town, Monsieur Roussillon, I think he calls himself. He's got himself into a tight place. He'll be shot to-morrow morning if that flag is not produced. Governor Hamilton has so ordered, and what he orders is done.”
”You jest, Monsieur.”
”I a.s.sure you that I speak the plain truth.”
”You will probably catch Monsieur Roussillon before you shoot him.” She tossed her head.
”He is already a prisoner in the fort.”
Alice turned pale.
”Monsieur, is this true?” Her voice had lost its happy tone. ”Are you telling me that to--”
”You can verify it, Mademoiselle, by calling upon the commander at the fort. I am sorry that you doubt my veracity. If you will go with me I will show you M. Roussillon a tightly bound prisoner.”
Jean had crept out of the gate and was standing just behind Alice with his feet wide apart, his long chin elevated, his head resting far back between his upthrust shoulders, his hands in his pockets, his uncanny eyes gazing steadily at Farnsworth. He looked like a deformed frog ready to jump.
Alice unmistakably saw truth in the Captain's countenance and felt it in his voice. The reality came to her with unhindered effect. M.
Roussillon's life depended upon the return of the flag. She put her hands together and for a moment covered her eyes with them.
”I will go now, Mademoiselle,” said Farnsworth; ”but I hope you will be in great haste about returning the flag.”
He stood looking at her. He was profoundly touched and felt that to say more would be too brutal even for his coa.r.s.e nature; so he simply lifted his hat and went away.
Jean took hold of Alice's dress as she turned to go back into the house.
”Is he going to take the flag? Can he find it? What does he want with it? What did you do with the flag, Alice?” he whined, in his peculiar, quavering voice. ”Where is it?”
Her skirt dragged him along as she walked.
”Where did you put it, Alice?”
”Father Beret hid it under his floor,” she answered, involuntarily, and almost unconsciously. ”I shall have to take it back and give it up.”