Part 24 (1/2)

”Oh, leave the wretched gipsies alone!” I begged. ”Who cares, now? If you say anything, they may call us as witnesses at St. Remy or some town where we don't want to stop. Let them go.”

”I suppose we might as well,” he said, ”for we can't prove anything worth proving. Come, then.” He slipped some money into the guide's hand, and thanked him for his courtesy and kindness. But another pang shot through my remorseful heart. More money spent by this man for me, when he had so little, and had lost the engagement which, though unworthy his rank in life, was the only present means he had of earning a livelihood.

I came, obeying in forlorn silence, and could not answer when he tried to cheer me up as we walked down to the Hotel Monte Carlo. There stood the Aigle in charge of a youth from the inn, and there was more money to be paid to him. I wanted to give it, but saw that if I insisted Mr.

Dane would be vexed.

He suggested putting me inside, as the air was now very cold, with the chill that falls after sunset; but I refused. ”I want to sit by you!” I implored, and he said no more. With the gla.s.s cage behind us empty, and the great acetylene lamps alight, the Aigle turned and flew down the hill.

CHAPTER XVI

For some time we did not speak, but my thoughts moved more quickly than the beating of the engine. At last I said meekly, ”Of course, I may as well consider myself discharged, too. And even if I weren't, I should go.”

”I've been thinking about that,” Mr. Dane answered. ”It was the first thought that came into my head when the row began. It isn't likely she'll want you to leave, because she won't like getting on without a maid. I think, in the circ.u.mstances, unless she is brutal, you'd better stay with her till your friends can receive you. Someone _must_ come forward and help you now.”

”I wouldn't ask anyone but Pamela, who's gone to America,” I protested.

”Besides, I can't stand Lady Turnour after what's happened--with you gone.”

(As I said this, I remembered again how I had dreaded to a.s.sociate with the chauffeur, and planned to avoid him. It was rather funny, as it had turned out; but somehow I didn't feel like laughing.)

”Of course _you_ won't mind,” I went on. ”It's different for a man. If you were left and I going, it wouldn't matter, because you'd have the car. But I've nothing--except Lady Turnour's 'transformation.' Luckily, she won't want me to stop.”

”I think she will,” he said, ”because your only fault was in having an accident. You weren't impudent, as she thinks I was in refusing to drive the car. Also in letting her see that I thought her willingness to leave a young girl in a place like this, alone for hours (she did propose to let me drive back for you) was the most brutal thing I'd ever heard of.”

”Oh, how good you were, to sacrifice yourself like that for me!” I exclaimed.

”It wasn't entirely for you,” he said. ”One owes some things to oneself.

But when we get to Avignon, and it's settled between you and Lady Turnour, promise to let me know what you mean to do and give me a chance to advise you.”

I promised. But I was so melancholy as to the future and so ashamed of myself for the trouble brought upon my only friend, that his efforts to cheer me were hopeless as an attempt to let off wet fireworks. Mine were soaked; and instead of admiring the moonlight, which soon flooded the wild landscape, it made me the more dismal.

The drive by day had seemed short, but now it was long, for I was in haste to begin the expected battle.

”Courage! and be wise,” said Mr. Dane, as he helped me out of the car in front of the Hotel de l'Europe. ”I shall bring up your dinner again--it's no use saying you don't want anything--and we'll exchange news.”

When lions have to be faced, my theory is that the best thing is to open the cage door and walk in boldly, not crawl in on your knees, saying: ”Please don't eat me.”

I expected Lady Turnour to have a fine appet.i.te for any martyrs lying about loose, but to my surprise a faint ”Come in!” answered my dauntless knock, and I beheld her prostrate in bed.

She said that I had nearly killed her, and that she would probably not be able to move for a week; but the story of my adventures with the gipsy interested her somewhat, and she brightened when she heard of the old coins found in a hole in the rock. There was not a word about sending me away, and I suspected that a scene with Sir Samuel had crushed the lady. Even a worm will turn, and Sir Samuel may be one of those mild men who, when once roused, are capable of surprising those who know them best. Quite meekly she desired that I would show her the coins, and having seen them, she said that she would buy them off me.

Not that they were of any intrinsic value, but they might be ”lucky,”

and she would give me a sovereign for the three.

Then an idea came and whispered in my ear. I thanked Lady Turnour politely, but said I thought I had better keep the coins and show them to an antiquary. They might be more valuable than we supposed, and I should need all the money, as well as all the luck possible, now that I was leaving her ladys.h.i.+p's service.

”Leaving!” she echoed. ”But as you had an accident I've made up my mind to excuse you this time, and not discharge you as I intended. You don't know your business too well, but any maid is better than no maid on a tour like this, as Sir Samuel pointed out to me.”

”But, begging your ladys.h.i.+p's pardon,” I ventured, ”I understand that the chauffeur is to go because he stopped at Les Baux to look for me. As he very likely saved my life, I couldn't be so ungrateful as to stay on in my situation when he is losing his for my sake.”