Henry accompanied the old man on his walk back to the village--and they conversed in cultivated and stilted French of philosophy and of Breton fisher-folk, and of the strange, melancholy type they seemed to have.
"They look ever out to sea," the priest said; "they are watching the deep waters and are conscious forever of their own and loved ones' dangers--they are _de braves gens_."
"It seems so wonderful that anything so young and full of life as Mrs. Howard should have been drawn to live in such an isolated place, does it not, _mon père_?" Henry asked. "It seems incongruous."
"When she came first she was very sad. She had cause for much sorrow, the dear child--and the sea was her mate; together she and I, with the sea, have studied many things. She deserves happiness, Monsieur, her soul is as pure and as generous as an angel's--if Monsieur knew what she does for my poor people and for all who come under her care!"
"It will be the endeavor of my life to make her happy, Father," and Lord Fordyce's voice was full of feeling.
"Happiness can only be secured in two ways, my son. Either it comes in the guise of peace, after the flames have burnt themselves out--or it comes through fusion of love at fever heat----"
"When there are still some cinders alight--the peaceful happiness is not quite certain of fulfilment; it becomes an experiment then with some risks."
The old priest did not look at him, but continued to gaze ahead.
"I have the welfare of our Dame d'Héronac very strongly at heart, Monsieur, as you can guess, and I am not altogether sure that the cinders are not still red. It would be well for you to ascertain whether this be so or not before you ask her to make fresh bonds."
"You think she still cares for her husband, then?" Henry was very pale.
"I do not know that she ever cared--but I do know that even his memory has power to disturb her. He must have been just such another as your friend, the Seigneur of Arranstoun. It is his presence which has reminded her of something of the past, since it cannot be he himself."
"No, of course it cannot be Michael--" and Henry laughed shortly. "He is an Englishman. She had never seen him before yesterday--You think she seems disturbed?"