We talked long on the approaching departure of the count and Madame de Ferrier.  He told me the latest details of preparation, and tremulously explained how he must feel the loss of his sister.

“I have nothing left but you, Lazarre.”

“My dear master,” I said, patting one of his shriveled hands between mine, “I am going to be open with you.”

I sat on the side of my bed facing his arm-chair, and the dressing-glass reflected his bald head and my young head drawn near together.

“Did you ever feel as if you were a prince?”

Doctor Chantry wagged a pathetic negative.

“Haven’t you ever been ready to dare anything and everything, because something in you said—­I must!”

Again Doctor Chantry wagged a negative.

“Now I have to break bounds—­I have to leave the manor and try my fortune!  I can’t wait for times and seasons—­to be certain of this—­to be certain of that!—­I am going to leave the house to-night—­and I am going to France!”

“My God!” cried Doctor Chantry, springing up.  “He is going to France!—­Rouse the servants!—­Call De Chaumont!” He struck his gouty foot against the chair and sat down nursing it in both hands.  I restrained him and added my sympathy to his groans.

“Have you as much as a Spanish real of your own, my lad?” he catechised me, when the foot was easy.

I acknowledged that I had not.

“It costs dear to travel about the world.  It is not like coming down the trail from St. Regis to Lake George.  How are you to travel without money?”

I laughed at the very uncertainty, and answered that money would be found.

“Found!  It isn’t found, I tell you!  It is inherited by the idle, or gathered by the unscrupulous, or sweated and toiled for!  It costs days and years, and comes in drops.  You might as well expect to find a kingdom, lad!”

“Maybe I shall find a kingdom, master!”

“Oh, what a thing it is to be young!” sighed Doctor Chantry.

I felt it myself, and hugged my youth.

“Do you know how to reach the sea-port?” he continued.

I said anybody could follow the Hudson to New York.

“You’re bitten, my poor lad!  It’s plain what ails you.  You might as well try to swim the Atlantic.  De Chaumont intends her for himself.  And in the unjust distribution of this world, your rival has the power and you have the feelings.  Stay where you are.  You’ll never forget it, but it will hurt less as years go by.”

“Master,” I said to him, “good sense is on your side.  But if I knew I should perish, I would have to go!”

And I added from fullness of conviction—­

“I would rather undertake to do something, and perish, than live a thousand years as I am.”

Doctor Chantry struck the chair arm with his clenched fist.

“My lad, so would I—­so would I!—­I wish I had been dowered with your spirit!—­I’m going with you!”