Joyselle, standing quite still in the shadow, watched them for a moment.
Then he turned and went back into the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
The morning of the eighth of September dawned that year very gloriously,
and Brigit Mead saw it dawn. Theo had begged her the evening before to
go with him to the castle to see the sunrise, and pleased by the
originality of the idea, she had accepted.
So while the sweet summer night still held sway over the pleasant Norman
land, the two climbed the steep street leading to the gates under the
ivy-grown bastions.
"The _concierge_ always goes with visitors," the young man explained as
they passed the little house and began mounting. "But father was at
school with him, so I got a permit to go up alone."
"Is your father all right to-day, I wonder? Or will he be?" returned
Brigit thoughtfully. "I never knew him to have a headache before."
"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 grassy ramparts and turned to the right.
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