‘I was really speaking to myself. I – I must not keep you, Sir.’

‘I think I should stay by you a few minutes in case the man who frightened you reappears.’

She glanced over her shoulder a little apprehensively. From where they stood she could see the path leading down through the gardens towards the town. It was empty.

‘He has gone,’ she said.

Then you can enjoy the sunrise in peace! But I would still like you to repeat what you said just now.’

‘I said, “This was where St. Dévote landed.” ‘

‘I thought that is what you said, and yet I had the idea that I must have been mistaken. There are not many Saints in Monte Carlo.’

She laughed at that, a little soft musical laugh.

‘Not now, perhaps, but St. Dévote came here in A.D. 300.’

‘Indeed! And became the Patron Saint of the Rock.’

‘Yes, she did, but I thought you did not know about her.’ ‘I don’t – I guessed. Tell me more.’

‘St. Dévote lived in Corsica and was assassinated after she became a Christian. The Priest who had converted her planned to take her body to Africa, but the ship was blown off its course. In a dream the Priest saw a white dove fly from the breast of the dead girl and settle in a narrow ravine. When he awoke, behold, the ship had landed on the beach of Monaco and before them, perched in a narrow ravine, was a white dove.’

The girl’s voice was low, sweet and mystical as she recounted the legend.

‘Who told you all this?’ Sir Robert asked.

‘A Nun at the Convent. She came from Monaco and always she talked about her home and the loveliness of the orange groves, of Mont Agel, of villages in the mountains and of St. Dévote who had inspired her to take her vows.’

‘And so it was because of this Nun that you wanted to see the sunrise over Monte Carlo?’

‘Not over Monte Carlo, but over the Bay of Hercules and over Monaco, and look, down there is where I am sure the Chapel of St. Dévote lies.’

She pointed. But Sir Robert looked not in the direction her fingers indicated but at the fingers themselves. They were long and thin, exquisitely graceful in their gesture.

‘Oh, look!’

The words seemed to come with a kind of ecstasy from between her lips. The first rays of the golden sun were creeping up the sky and swiftly, as the dawn comes in the south, a sudden transformation took place. One moment all was grey and colourless, the next there was the blue of the sea, the glory of the sky, the majesty of the snow-capped mountains, while around them lay a riot of purple and crimson, violet and heliotrope.

The dawn! The wonder of that moment when day meets night, the first song of the birds serenading the sun!