"
"The Lord only knows where I have been," answered Willan, laughing. "I
too have slept; but a woman with a voice like the voice of a wild bird
has been singing strange melodies in my ear."
The elder man smiled. "The dreams of young men," he said, "are wont to
have the sound of women's voices in them."
"This was no dream," retorted Willan. "She was so near me I heard the
panting breath with which she cried out and fled when I made a step
towards her."
"Gentlemen, will it please you to walk in to supper?" said Victor,
appearing in the doorway with a clean white apron on, and no trace, in
his smiling and obsequious countenance, of the rage in which he had been
a few minutes before.
A second talk with Jeanne after Victorine had left the kitchen had
produced a deep impression on Victor's mind. He was now as eager as
Jeanne herself for the meeting between Victorine and Willan Blaycke.
The pigeons were not burned, after all. Most savory did they smell, and
Willan Blaycke and his friend fell to with a will.
"Saidst thou not thou hadst some of thy famous pear cider left,
landlord?" asked Willan.
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