"You will have this house of Gobelet to be sole mistress of, and, besides, you and your mother must superintend the housekeeping of Linn and Keller Bey in the Garden Cottage!"
"But, Angus, have you thought of Jeanne?"
"What Jeanne?"
"Jeanne Félix, sir!"
I was so stunned I could not answer, so great was my astonishment. Rhoda Polly had not been so blind as I had supposed-or was it possible that Jeanne herself-? No, I thanked Heaven that at least need not be thought of.
Rhoda Polly laughed a ringing, joyous laugh, and gave my arm a little playful clutch.
"Silly," she said, "I will put you out of any remorse you may feel for any of your misdeeds. Jeanne is to be married to young Emile Bert, the fruit-grower of Les Cabannes. She is at last going to reward his constancy-as I am yours!"
She looked at me with gay, ironic eyes. The vixen!
I did not answer. It was indeed a difficult corner to turn with plain lying, but most happily at that moment we saw a strange and memorable thing.
Across the river, from the fort which dominated the town, and also from the high tower of the Mairie, we saw the red flag of revolt flutter down, and simultaneously, like a burst of sunlight, the tricolour was broken out at each mast-head, gay and hopeful in that entrancing Provençal air.
Instinctively Rhoda Polly's hand sought mine. We both stood silent and bareheaded as in the presence of the dead, for both of us knew that we had looked our last upon the "Tatter of Scarlet."
THE END
notes
1
See Hamerton's "Round my House."