"Padre, ring the bell!" cries the excited miner.
The clock ticks away noisily in the hall. The wondering servants
bear madame to her rooms. All is confusion. A fainting fit.
"Let's get out of here," whispers Woods, frightened by his own
bomb-shell.
"Stay till we get a message of formality," murmurs the diplomatic
padre. "It would look like violence or insult to leave abruptly.
No one here must suspect." Joe nods gloomily and wipes his brows.
The stately butler soon expresses the regrets of madame. "A most
unforeseen affair, an assault upon one of her discharged servants,
has tried her nerves. Will Colonel Woods kindly excuse madame, who
will send him word when she receives again?"
"Colonel Woods will decidedly excuse madame." He returns to his
hotel. He grieves over the dark shadows cast upon her suffering
loveliness. "By the gods! It's a shame SHE IS WHAT SHE IS," he
murmurs to his cigar. Ah, Joseph! entangled in the nets of Delilah.
In a few days the spacious apartments of Colonel Woods have another
tenant. Bag and baggage he has quietly departed for the Pacific
Slope. Pere Francois runs on to Havre. He waves an adieu from the
"quai." It would not be possible to prove that Colonel Joe has not
gone to Switzerland.
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