There was a sudden flight of pigeons winging their way over the white roofs below him, and vividly they conjured before his eyes the pigeons coming home to roost in the woods with which Cheveron was surrounded.

The trees would be in bud, the snowdrops and crocuses would be out on the lawns, and everywhere there would be that freshness, that breathless sense of wonder which each year heralded the miracle of spring. Soon the lilac bushes would be heavy with purple and white blossom, and the apple trees would be scattering clouds of pink and white petals, while the water lilies would be golden against the shining waters of the lake.

Cheveron was calling him, and unconsciously Robert made an impulsive movement as if he could not wait another moment but must leave immediately for the home he loved so dearly. Yet he must curb his impatience, for he knew that when he went he would not go alone.

He had not slept last night, but had walked for a long time by the sea shore, and when at length he had gone to his own room it had been to sit on the balcony, looking out into the darkness until the dawn came. He had been thinking of Mistral, of her head against his shoulder, her face raised to his.

How lovely she had been in even the flickering, uncertain light of the carriage lantern! How hard it had been not to kiss her, and how very nearly he had done so! Her lips had been so near to his and he had known by the soft trembling of her body and by the expression in her eyes that she would not have refused him.

But some deep-rooted sense of honour within himself had held him back. He had forced himself to wait, to shut the door on the past before he opened the one which led to the future. He had done the right thing, he was sure of that, but every nerve in his body ached all night as the thought of Mistral’s loveliness and her nearness of which he had not taken advantage.

When he left her at the Hôtel de Paris, he had told the carriage to drive immediately to the Villa des Roses. Mistral’s innocent question had recalled Violet to his mind and he realised now how unbearably rude he had been to leave her without explanation or apology standing alone outside the Restaurant des Fleurs. But all thought of her had vanished completely from his mind when he imagined that Mistral was being abducted by the Prince. His only thought had been to rescue Mistral, and a blind, insensate rage had made him oblivious of everything and everybody.