“I don’t know; it depends on the wind.  I may run over to England, or I may only go to the Channel Isles.  I shall see.”

“Shall you touch anywhere?”

“Oh, yes, I shall go ashore; I shan’t take provisions for more than a week.  Why?”

The baron looked round the verandah in which they were sitting to make sure that they were alone, and having satisfied himself of this he leant forward and said, in a half-whisper, “Tiens, Leon!  Will you help me?  I am determined to stand it no longer; it is wearing my life out; I have not a moment’s peace.  If I don’t get rid of it I believe I shall go mad.”

“What is it you are talking of?  I’ll help you if I can, but what is wearing your life out?” said Leon.

[Illustration:  THE BARONESS.]

“The baby, of course,” said the baron.

“The baby!  Well, but what do you want me to do with that!  I can’t kill it, you know.”

“Of course not, but you said in joke the other day you would take it with you on one of your trips, and put it out to nurse.  I wish to heaven, Leon, you’d do it in reality.  It is no use my sending it to anyone near here; Mathilde would go after it the next day.  My only chance is to send it somewhere where it will be safe, of course, and well looked after, but where Mathilde can’t go after it, and as she would go to the end of the world for it if she knew where it was, it must go where she can’t find it; she must not know where it is.  No one, indeed, need know but you, for as far as I am concerned the less I know about it at present the better; it has spoilt all my happiness.  Mathilde is so wrapped up in that child she does not care a fig for me now; in fact, I rarely see her.  If you can only put that infant safely out of our way for a year or two, I’ll never forget it, Leon.”

“Are you in real sober earnest, Arnaut?” asked Leon, who, in his astonishment, had risen to his feet, and was puffing away vigorously at his cigar.

“Of course I am.  I am willing to pay handsomely for it, and I shall depend upon you putting it where it will be well taken care of.  As for all the rest, I leave it to you to take it where you like—­Australia if you wish, only don’t tell me where it is, or I might cut my own throat by telling Mathilde if she makes a great scene, as she will when it is gone.  Will you do it, Leon?”

“Whew!” whistled Leon.  “I don’t care for the work, for if anything should happen to the child Mathilde would never forgive me nor you either.  However, if you insist, I think I could manage it, but as I am going to start in two or three hours, there is not much time.  I must go down to the yacht and speak to my men first.  If I may tell them I am taking the child by your express wish I could manage it, I think.  The next difficulty is where to take it, but I have an idea about that, so I’ll be off now, and see what I can arrange.  I shall ride, so I shall be back in an hour.”