You may pass up a step into the graveyard, which is separated by a wall
from the lane. And though nobody followed, the two men hurried Eagle and
the boy into the graveyard and closed the gate.

It was not a large enclosure, and thread-like paths, grassy and
ungraveled, wound among crowded graves. There was a very high outside
wall: and the place insured such privacy as could not be had in St.
Bat's church. Some crusted stones lay broad as gray doors on ancient
graves; but the most stood up in irregular oblongs, white and lichened.

A cat call from the lane was the last shot of the battle. Eagle
valiantly sleeked her disarrayed hair, the breast under her bodice still
heaving and sobbing. The June sun illuminated a determined child of the
gray eyed type between white and brown, flushed with fullness of blood,
quivering with her intensity of feeling.

"Who would say this was Mademoiselle de Ferrier!" observed the younger
of the two men. Both were past middle age. The one whose queue showed
the most gray took Eagle reproachfully by her hands; but the other stood
laughing.

"My little daughter!"

"I did strike the English girl--and I would do it again, father!"

"She would do it again, monsieur the marquis," repeated the laugher.

"Were the children rude to you?"