"My poor girl, all that is over," said Hanaud. And he stood up.
But at the first movement he made she cried incisively, "No," and
tightened the clutch of her fingers upon his sleeve.
"But, mademoiselle, you are safe," he said, with a smile. She
stared at him stupidly. It seemed the words had no meaning for
her. She would not let him go. It was only the feel of his coat
within the clutch of her fingers which gave her any comfort.
"I want to be sure that I am safe," she said, with a wan little
smile.
"Tell me, mademoiselle, what have you had to eat and drink during
the last two days?"
"Is it two days?" she asked. "I was in the dark there. I did not
know. A little bread, a little water."
"That's what is wrong," said Hanaud. "Come, let us go from here!"
"Yes, yes!" Celia cried eagerly. She rose to her feet, and
tottered. Hanaud put his arm about her. "You are very kind," she
said in a low voice, and again doubt looked out from her face and
disappeared. "I am sure that I can trust you."
Ricardo fetched her cloak and slipped it on her shoulders. Then he
brought her hat, and she pinned it on. She turned to Hanaud;
unconsciously familiar words rose to her lips.
"Is it straight?" she asked. And Hanaud laughed outright, and in a
moment Celia smiled herself.
Supported by Hanaud she stumbled down the stairs to the garden. As
they passed the open door of the lighted parlour at the back of
the house Hanaud turned back to Lemerre and pointed silently to
the morphia-needle and the phial. Lemerre nodded his head, and
going into the room took them away. They went out again into the
garden. Celia Harland threw back her head to the stars and drew in
a deep breath of the cool night air.
"I did not think," she said in a low voice, "to see the stars
again."
They walked slowly down the length of the garden, and Hanaud
lifted her into the launch. She turned and caught his coat.
"You must come too," she said stubbornly.
Hanaud sprang in beside her.
"For tonight," he said gaily, "I am your papa!"
Ricardo and the others followed, and the launch moved out over the
lake under the stars. The bow was turned towards Geneva, the water
tumbled behind them like white fire, the night breeze blew fresh
upon their faces. They disembarked at the landing-stage, and then
Lemerre bowed to Celia and took his leave. Hanaud led Celia up on
to the balcony of the restaurant and ordered supper. There were
people still dining at the tables.
One party indeed sitting late over their coffee Ricardo recognised
with a kind of shock. They had taken their places, the very places
in which they now sat, before he and Hanaud and Lemerre had left
the restaurant upon their expedition of rescue. Into that short
interval of time so much that was eventful had been crowded.