The Girls Own Paper, Vol. VIII, No. 354, October 9, 1886 | Page 2

she
were inured to a harder life in her infancy, she was much more likely to
develop into a strong, healthy girl; and as he quieted his conscience
with these thoughts his hesitation vanished, and he stooped to pick her
up.
But hark! there was a footstep. Was it Marie returning? What would
she think to find him in the nursery, into whose precincts he had never
before intruded, as the servants all knew well enough? No, it was a
false alarm, no one was coming; and seeing that now or never was the
time for him to carry out his plan, he picked up the baby, folded the
quilted satin coverlet and the fine cambric sheet round it, and covered
its face with a lace handkerchief that lay on the pillow; then, feeling
that the swansdown quilt might not be warm enough on board the yacht,
he glanced round the room, and seeing an Indian shawl which Mathilde
often wore lying on a rocking-chair, he wrapped his burden entirely up
in this, and then dreading every moment the child should cry and betray
him, he stole out of the nursery to the spiral staircase. Here he paused
for a moment to listen, but all he heard was Marie's voice far off
entreating another servant to come and help her to look for the cane, as
Monsieur le Baron was waiting for it.
"Be quick, Marie, I can't wait much longer," shouted the baron, and
then, quick as thought, he dived down the spiral staircase, in his haste

nearly precipitating himself and his little daughter, who still slept
peacefully, to the bottom.
To let himself out at the side door was the work of a moment; and now,
unless surprised by any of the servants who might be loitering about in
the shrubberies with their lovers, he was safe. He had only to run down
a winding path of about two hundred yards across the grounds to the
gate where Léon was awaiting him. Once the baron started like a robber
at a rustling in the bushes as he passed, but it was only a cat, and once
again he breathed freely, and in less than five minutes from the time he
entered the nursery he stood on the road by the side of the dogcart.
"Is it you, Arnaut?" asked Léon, anxiously peering through the twilight
at his brother.
"Yes, yes, it is all right; here it is," said the baron, holding the bundle
up to Léon.
"How on earth am I to take it? Where is its head? Can't you nurse it till
we get to the yacht?" said Léon.
"No; how should I drive with this thing in my arms? Here, give me the
reins, and take hold. This is its head. Thank you," said the baron, with
an immense sigh of relief as he handed the baby to Léon.
Léon took the bundle so reluctantly, and handled it as delicately as if it
were a piece of priceless china he was afraid of breaking by a touch,
that the baron, who was not in the best of tempers, in spite of his
successful expedition, growled out, "It won't bite you; you needn't be
afraid."
"I am not, but my dear Arnaut you might make allowances; I never had
a baby in my arms before in my life. I daresay I shall get used to it in
time; use is second nature, they say. But I say, I don't believe it ought to
be bundled up in this way; it can't breathe; it will be suffocated; I shall
open this shawl a little," said Léon, proceeding to do so, and being
immediately rewarded by a long, wailing cry from the infant.

"There," said the baron, with an impatient exclamation, "now you have
woke it. Why didn't you leave it alone?"
"My dear fellow, it would never have woke again if I had; the poor
little creature was choking," said Léon, sitting the baby up on his knees,
as if it were a year old instead of a few months.
"It will cry the whole way now, and, if we meet anyone, betray our
secret," grumbled the baron.
"Well, I'd rather it cried than have it suffocated, as it infallibly would
have been but for me. Baby, in future years you may thank your uncle
Léon for saving your life. Perhaps if I whistle it will stop howling. I'll
try," said Léon, whistling, in which art he was a great adept.
But whistling had no effect on the baby, unless it was to make it cry
louder, and Léon was in despair, and the baron getting furious, until it
suddenly occurred to the former to jump the child up and down, as he
had seen Mathilde do. This was successful;