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Ardie arrived alone in Paris in midsummer of 1895, weighed down by an intensely private concern which he felt required a meeting with Philo face to face. Early on the morning of his first full day in the Place Dauphine, it happened that at the very moment he sat opposite Philo in the study to open the discussion, the telephone rang.
Philo answered.
It was the Empress Eugénie.
"Captain, I am calling from my villa at Cap Martin," she hastily explained. "A private compartment has been reserved for you on the Azure Coast Express, leaving Paris in an hour. You will be met at the railway station in Monte Carlo and taken to the private docking facilities of the Prince of Monaco. My yacht is waiting for us there. Bring a sufficiency of clothing for at least three weeks. We sail tonight."
Stunned, Philo blurted out: "I cannot, Your Imperial Majesty! My son, Ardie, has just come from America!"
"Bring him!" she responded imperiously.
"But...but..." Philo stammered.
Impatiently, Eugénie broke in, declaring: "Dragon's Heart! Do you understand?"
Paling, he gasped, "I do! We will be there!"
Hanging up, he dazedly announced the news of their imminent departure to Ardie and busied himself packing with the help of Adrienne. Later that day, zipping by trasn through the French countryside, Philo took Ardie into his full confidence, telling him everything he knew pertaining to the mystery of Dragon's Heart.
"Now you can fathom why he and Dash left so abruptly from Paris that night in 1889, without taking time to bid you farewell," he concluded.
Ardie sat in gloomy silence in his armchair, staring out the window of the train at the peppercorn towers and battlements of a medieval chateau crowning a hilltop rising from the middle of an emerald glade.
The scene expressed the romance Ardie discerned in every facet of Bart's existence, romance he felt he himself had been denied. He thought of Bart's entry into their lives under the brilliant heralding of the Northern Lights; his medical education in Edinburgh; his associations with the Empress Eugénie, the Empress Elizabeth, and Louis Pasteur; his marriage to Beth which, although it ended tragically, had been lived as the stuff of dreams, and now Bart was caught up in the glamour of international intrigue!
Ardie sighed. "Please don't think me jealous of Bart, Pa, "but I sometimes wonder what things would have been like without him. Would my mother still be alive? Would I be running Duncan Cargo? Would I have spent most of my life missing you, loving you from afar, asking myself which of us was truly your son? Would I have married Irene?"
Philo caught his breath at the litany of rhetorical questions. Hurt was obvious in his son's voice. His thoughts raced backward to one of the last conversations with Annie before she took Romelle to Boston for the move to Baltimore.
She had remarked then that there was so much Ardie had not been a part of in the family. She felt guilty about it. Philo told her it had been Ardie's choice.
Now, he suddenly questioned his own judgment in making such a statement. He perceived for the first time that the choices may have been thrust upon Ardie.
"Ardie, remember when you were a little fellow, after I returned from the war? You came into my study in Baltimore one day. You asked me why I was so sad. You wondered why didn't I love you anymore, you and Bart and Annie and Bessie."
Ardie looked up. "Yes, Pa, I remember. You said you did love us."
Philo nodded. "Then I explained that I had to go away, and what made me sad was that it grieved me to think of not being able to see you all the time. Ardie, that is still my feeling. Not a day of my life since then has gone by, when we were apart, without an ache in my heart because you were not at my side. You are my only issue, son. You are the fruitage of the love I shared with your mother. It was you who conjoined Nelle and me for eternity. I apologize for not being the father I should have been, or even grandfather! Your mother would be ashamed of me if she knew that I have never even met my own grandson, and Brad is thirteen this month!"
Tears clouded Ardie's eyes. "I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful father! Forgive me for making you believe I think otherwise! I know where I stand in your heart, and I know Brad stands there with me. Please remember Irene wouldn't let Brad travel over here. She's too protective! He wants desperately to meet his grandpa, though."
"Yes!" Philo agreed. "We have to do something about Brad. Perhaps you could send him, or all three children, to me for a vacation later this summer. Why couldn't they come over for Christmas holidays, too? And Irene....."
Ardie crumpled in his chair. "Oh, Pa, that's why I came to Paris. I was starting to tell you this morning when Her Majesty called. It's about Irene!"
Philo sat bolt upright. "Irene? Is she...ill?" Irene's mother, Jane, came to mind.
Ardie shook his head. "Ill? I wouldn't call it that, Pa, but she...seems to be...suffering...a change. Her disposition, her personality...something is troubling her. I can't define it. I don't know what to do. I came here to ask you to return to Baltimore with me for awhile. I know you feel you must be here in case you hear from Bart, but....."
"Son, say no more," Philo interjected. "As soon as this adventure with the Empress is done, we are going to America together. If Irene needs special help, we'll bring her over here. Louis Pasteur has told me there are Viennese doctors who have begun to specialize in problems of the mind. Marvelous discoveries are being made."
Relief flooded Ardie's face. "I love you, Pa."
"Not a whit more than I love you, son," his father replied.
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