"No more did I," answered Theo, running his words together as he did when he had been speaking much French. "He looked very seedy yesterday, but last night Tante Bathilde went in to see him while you and I were walking, and she said he was better."

They had reached the gra.s.sy ramparts and turned to the right. Night was now melting into day, only the great Tower of Talbot (who alas! never was in Falaise in his life) stood out against a faintly moonlit sky.

And glancing over his right shoulder at the mantling west, Theo hurried Brigit past the Breach of Henri IV., with its crown of lilac trees, up the steep causeway to the Tower itself. "We must climb to see the sun, dearest," he said, "let us make haste. I am glad to be with you while you for the first time see it come up over the edge." He was very happy and looked rather splendid in his triumphant youth. Brigit smiled at him.

"I like your town," she answered, "and I like this view of it."

Through the little dungeon they ran and up the narrow crumbling stairs, laughing or crying out as they slipped or lost their breath, racing with the sun; a very remarkable thing for Brigit Mead to be doing, as she fully appreciated. And then, at the top, high in the splendid air, the town in its greenery looking like half a dozen eggs in a green nest, asleep below them.

And then, for the race was theirs, they watched the sun creep up until he set the east on fire.

Brigit, her hat off, her eyes bravely set to the east, stood motionless, and Theo, after saluting the risen king, drew back so that he got her profile against the sky and watched it.

She wore a short grey skirt and a grey silk shirt; there was about her not one touch of colour except for a beautiful pink the unwonted climbing had brought to her cheeks. Theo realised how great a mistake most women make in obliterating by bright tints the natural colours of their eyes and skins.

"You are so wonderful," he said suddenly.

She started, for there was in his tone something that vaguely disquieted her. It was like his father's voice, and like his father's when he was impatient and superficially stirred.

"A wonderful person, am I not?" she laughed, picking up her hat and putting it on, dashing a great cruel-looking hat-pin apparently straight through her brain. "I am also a hungry person, Theo. Are we to have food? I suppose no one will be awake for hours!"

It was indeed too early to hope for coffee, so they amused themselves by wandering up and down the stairs, throwing burning paper down the famous...o...b..iette, and crossing perilously narrow ledges hand-in-hand.

"So William was born in this horrid little room? I don't believe it!"

"_On le dit._ And down there--see? by the tan-yards, Arlette was washing clothes when Robert the Devil saw her and fell in love with her."

"Remarkably fine eyesight he must have had to see enough to fall in love with!"

"Exactly. But that is the story. My mother's father was a tanner down there somewhere. He was fairly well-to-do for his position, and father was considered most audacious for aspiring to her hand!"

He laughed tenderly. "My dear old father! I am so proud of him, dear love, I can't express it at all."

"I know."

"And I am proud of _pet.i.te mere_, too. She was so brave and patient always, and he has led her a sad life at times. They were desperately poor, for her father left most of his money to his other daughter, who married Jacques Colibris. You must see my Uncle Jacques, he is quite delightful--and father was a gambler--and so on. I can myself remember one morning when he came in and told her he had lost two hundred pounds, and that was a fortune then."

"She told me about those times," answered Brigit, slowly. "She is very dear and good."

They were now going slowly down towards the town. It was five o'clock, and the _concierge's_ children were scampering about, uncombed, as they pa.s.sed the cottage.

"We'll go to the Musee and knock up old Malaumain," declared Theo suddenly. "He won't mind, and she will give us a good _dejeuner_. I could eat a horse."

"And I a carriage! But why go to a museum for breakfast?"

"It is a _cafe_--old Malaumain is a collector."

"Of what?"

"Of everything. From bird's eggs to souvenirs of Guillaume, whom he adores. The house is supposed to have been at one time lived in by the Conqueror, and old Malaumain has made busts of him, and pictures, and all kinds of things. He will talk to you about _l'Entente cordiale_ and the crossing of the two races, and the Friendly Hand, until you muzzle him. He is a dear old chap, and his wife is a very excellent cook. I used to run away when I was a little kid visiting _grand-mere_, and go and beg her for sandcakes with the Conqueror's head done on top in sugar!"

Madame Malaumain, contrary to expectation, appeared at an upper window at the first knock, came down in a neat white _peignoir_, and after a quick stare at Theo held out her hand.

"_C'est le pet.i.t Joyselle_," she said cordially, "_avec sa future?_"

"Yes--but if you don't give us breakfast, she will die, and then where shall I be?" he answered, laughing. "How is M. Malaumain?"

"He is well, thank you, M. Theo. He has made many more interesting discoveries about the Conqueror. He is very superior, M. Malaumain," she added, turning to Brigit. "He was in service with many great people, so he is never shy, as I am."

Chatting cheerfully, she set a small iron-table outside the door for them, and then looking thoughtfully at them and murmuring, "Coffee, boiled eggs, fresh bread and honey," disappeared, leaving them alone in the slowly awakening Palace St. Gervais.

"What time is the Ma.s.s?" asked Brigit, as a tall cart clattered up to the fountain and a brisk middle-aged woman climbed down from it and began setting up her stand for the day's market.

"At ten. I hope _grand-pere_ will behave well. I sometimes think he is more mischievous than--than silly, poor old man. The cure who married them called yesterday and congratulated him, whereupon _grand-pere_ looked up and remarked that he didn't mind being married again, but that most men got a new wife the second time! Poor old M. Clery almost died."

"And what did _grand-mere_ say?" asked Brigit.

"Nothing. Just looked at him. _Pet.i.te mere_ said it was a dreadful scene, but _grand-pere_ was much pleased with himself, and chuckled all day."

"I rather suspect his--sincerity, too, since I saw him trying to make Papillon eat a domino. Oh, what's that?"

Up the street came a small procession; two brown-faced little boys, one of them ringing a bell, followed by a priest in a well-washed and darned white garment.

Theo rose and took off his hat. "It is the Viatic.u.m," he said simply, crossing himself.

The town was waking now; everywhere shop shutters were being taken down and people in sabots clattered about, while a steady stream of high carts, each with a big-boned horse between its shafts, drew up near the fountain and deposited their owners in the market-place.

"A little later on in the year the apples make a splendid colour-effect," commented Theo, breaking off to add in surprise, "Why, here is father!"

It was indeed Joyselle hurrying towards them, a soft hat jammed down over his eyes, so that he did not see them till his son accosted him.

"Father!"

"Theo!"

"Is anything wrong?" asked the young man rising.

Joyselle shook his head with a frown. "Wrong? What should be wrong?" he returned harshly.

"But you look----"

"Hungry, probably. _Bonjour_, Brigitte. Yes, I _am_ hungry. I have been walking for hours, and I am perished with hunger."

"Will you join us? Madame Malaumain is getting us some coffee----"

Theo obviously expected a refusal to this invitation, but Joyselle accepted it without hesitation, and drawing up a chair, sat down.

"Where have you two been?" he asked.