And he had never been one to insist on deference,
which was why he got so much of it. But at last he got up and when
Henri stood still, rather ashamed of himself, he put an arm over the
boy's shoulders.
"I want you to do this thing, for me. And this thing only," he said.
"It is the work you do best. There are others who can fight, but--I do
not know any one else who can do as you have done."
Henri promised. He would have promised to go out and drown himself in
the sea, just beyond the wind-swept little garden, for the tall grave
man who stood before him. Then he bowed and went out, and the King
went back to his plain pine table and his work. That was the reason why
Sara Lee found him asleep on the floor by her kitchen stove that morning,
and went back to her cold bed to lie awake and think. But no explanation
came to her.
The arrival of Marie roused Henri. The worst of the bombardment was
over, but there was far-away desultory firing. He listened carefully
before, standing outside in the cold, he poured over his head and
shoulders a pail of cold water. He was drying himself vigorously when
he heard Sara Lee's voice in the kitchen.
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