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something of a hurry." He tossed a satchel full of bananas over Monique's back.
"May I ask where we are going?" she asked.
"To meet my ship."
"Your ship? What? I thought your ship was captured."
"No. I was captured, but the ship's just fine. They're waiting for me."
"How did they know you were coming?"
"They didn't. We always wait a little while after someone's captured, just in case they make an escape. If someone's captured in this area, we always wait on the north shore, but only for a week or two, so come, we've got to hurry."
"But why ... why am I coming?" She still had the faintest hope that she could talk him out of this part of the plan. "I won't.. . tell anyone about you, about where you're going. I can lie, tell them you set me free just as soon as you escaped."
"Sorry. I need you just in case someone sees me. I don't want to be hindered by one lonely lawman on a horse, after all this. I need my hostage. Come now—too much talking, not enough riding." He hopped upon Monique, then dragged Sylvie up in front of him, apologizing when she landed roughly in his lap. "Sorry," he said, "did that hurt?"
It did not hurt nearly as much as it embarrassed her. "No," she said quietly.
Her tender expression told him that it was only her modesty which had been wounded. "Sorry," he said again, "I really am." He patted her gently on the side, refrained from giving her a kiss on the head, and then slapped the reins with a gentle whistle.
Elizabeth Doyle
"Oh my lord!" cried Madam Davant. "That cannot be!"
Jervais stepped forward like a soldier. "Madam, I take full responsibility" he said, standing firmly with legs apart, equal weight on each black boot. "I allowed her to visit the prison once, and I should not have. I did not know she would try to return without me, but I am to blame nonetheless. I should never have entertained such a dangerous curiosity."
"Certainly not without telling us," broke in Monsieur Davant.
Jervais nodded humbly. "As you say."
The jailer, having previously felt self-conscious over being the one to let Sylvie in, was suddenly quite convinced of Jervais's responsibility in all of this. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he said generously, slapping Jervais on his massive back. "Anyone could have made that mistake."
Jervais scowled, but not for long. He disciplined himself to remain focused on Sylvie's grief-stricken parents. "I shall, of course, go after her" pledged Jervais. "I caught that pirate once, I can catch him again. But I will need to hire a crew. When the king commissions us, they get their pay, but on something like this, a ... personal matter, I'll need independent funds." He looked worriedly about the modest cottage.
"Etienne Peridot," said Madam Davant, "Sylvie's fiance. He will be able to provide you with what you need."
Jervais bowed in his appreciation. "I shall not fail." Strangely, there was not a soul present who doubted that. There was just something about the way he said it. Though tearful and distraught, they all had a sudden hope as Jervais turned on his heel that Sylvie really would return safely to them all.
Etienne was very busy when Jervais found him. There was a promenade along the seashore, an old tradition borrowed
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69
from the homeland in which couples and would-be couples took a group stroll up and down the sand, dressed in all their finest. Incline did so while holding and kissing the hand of an angelic blonde. Her hair was the color of ripe lemon, all the way through. Even the underside was not brown, and her eyes were as green as baby grass. "My love for you is like water that burns," he said. "The fire of my longing is forever at odds with the purity of my intentions."
Arlette was melted by his words. "You say such kind things," she encouraged him with a flush.
"No, no," Etienne objected, halting their promenade so that he might clear up the disastrous misunderstanding. "It is not kindness," he told her, clutching both of her bare
"May I ask where we are going?" she asked.
"To meet my ship."
"Your ship? What? I thought your ship was captured."
"No. I was captured, but the ship's just fine. They're waiting for me."
"How did they know you were coming?"
"They didn't. We always wait a little while after someone's captured, just in case they make an escape. If someone's captured in this area, we always wait on the north shore, but only for a week or two, so come, we've got to hurry."
"But why ... why am I coming?" She still had the faintest hope that she could talk him out of this part of the plan. "I won't.. . tell anyone about you, about where you're going. I can lie, tell them you set me free just as soon as you escaped."
"Sorry. I need you just in case someone sees me. I don't want to be hindered by one lonely lawman on a horse, after all this. I need my hostage. Come now—too much talking, not enough riding." He hopped upon Monique, then dragged Sylvie up in front of him, apologizing when she landed roughly in his lap. "Sorry," he said, "did that hurt?"
It did not hurt nearly as much as it embarrassed her. "No," she said quietly.
Her tender expression told him that it was only her modesty which had been wounded. "Sorry," he said again, "I really am." He patted her gently on the side, refrained from giving her a kiss on the head, and then slapped the reins with a gentle whistle.
Elizabeth Doyle
"Oh my lord!" cried Madam Davant. "That cannot be!"
Jervais stepped forward like a soldier. "Madam, I take full responsibility" he said, standing firmly with legs apart, equal weight on each black boot. "I allowed her to visit the prison once, and I should not have. I did not know she would try to return without me, but I am to blame nonetheless. I should never have entertained such a dangerous curiosity."
"Certainly not without telling us," broke in Monsieur Davant.
Jervais nodded humbly. "As you say."
The jailer, having previously felt self-conscious over being the one to let Sylvie in, was suddenly quite convinced of Jervais's responsibility in all of this. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he said generously, slapping Jervais on his massive back. "Anyone could have made that mistake."
Jervais scowled, but not for long. He disciplined himself to remain focused on Sylvie's grief-stricken parents. "I shall, of course, go after her" pledged Jervais. "I caught that pirate once, I can catch him again. But I will need to hire a crew. When the king commissions us, they get their pay, but on something like this, a ... personal matter, I'll need independent funds." He looked worriedly about the modest cottage.
"Etienne Peridot," said Madam Davant, "Sylvie's fiance. He will be able to provide you with what you need."
Jervais bowed in his appreciation. "I shall not fail." Strangely, there was not a soul present who doubted that. There was just something about the way he said it. Though tearful and distraught, they all had a sudden hope as Jervais turned on his heel that Sylvie really would return safely to them all.
Etienne was very busy when Jervais found him. There was a promenade along the seashore, an old tradition borrowed
Hi YOND PARADISE
69
from the homeland in which couples and would-be couples took a group stroll up and down the sand, dressed in all their finest. Incline did so while holding and kissing the hand of an angelic blonde. Her hair was the color of ripe lemon, all the way through. Even the underside was not brown, and her eyes were as green as baby grass. "My love for you is like water that burns," he said. "The fire of my longing is forever at odds with the purity of my intentions."
Arlette was melted by his words. "You say such kind things," she encouraged him with a flush.
"No, no," Etienne objected, halting their promenade so that he might clear up the disastrous misunderstanding. "It is not kindness," he told her, clutching both of her bare
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