ony.

What these two beautiful young beings said to each other was only a
murmur of love lost in an endless kiss. Then, by gentle effort, the
young man drew the girl with one hand to her chamber, while with the
other he loosened the cords of the blind, which fell noisily
behind them. The window closed behind the blind. Then the lamp was
extinguished, and the front of the Chateau des Noires-Fontaines was
again in darkness.

This darkness had lasted for about a quarter of an hour, when the
rolling of a carriage was heard along the road leading from the highway
of Pont-d'Ain to the entrance of the chateau. There the sound ceased; it
was evident that the carriage had stopped before the gates.

CHAPTER X. THE FAMILY OF ROLAND

The carriage which had stopped before the gate was that which brought
Roland back to his family, accompanied by Sir John.

The family was so far from expecting him that, as we have said, all the
lights in the house were extinguished, all the windows in darkness, even
Amelie's. The postilion had cracked his whip smartly for the last five
hundred yards, but the noise was insufficient to rouse these country
people from their first sleep. When the carriage had stopped, Roland
opened the door, sprang out without touching the steps, and tugged at
the bell-handle. Five minutes elapsed, and, after each peal, Roland
turned to the carriage, saying: "Don't be impatient, Sir John."

At last a window opened and a childish but firm voice cried out: "Who is
ringing that way?"

"Ah, is that you, little Edouard?" said Roland. "Make haste and let us
in."

The child leaped back with a shout of delight and disappeared. But at
the same time his voice was heard in the corridors, crying: "Mother!
wake up; it is Roland! Sister! wake up; it is the big brother!"

Then, clad only in his night robe and his little slippers, he ran down
the steps, crying: "Don't be impatient, Roland; here I am."

An instant later the key grated in the lock, and the bolts slipped
back in their sockets. A white figure appeared in the portico, and flew
rather than ran to the gate, which an instant later turned on its hinges
and swung open. The child sprang upon Roland's neck and hung there.

"Ah, brother! Brother!" he exclaimed, embracing the young man, laughing
and crying at the same time. "Ah, big brother Roland! How happy mother
will be; and Amelie, too! Every body is well. I am the sickest--ah!
except Michel, the gardener, you k