"You do not answer me," said the young man, his heart full of the soft
expectation of coming pleasure.
"Oh!" she said, in a strained voice, "the tragedy begins."
"What tragedy?" he asked.
She stopped short, looked at the young student from head to foot with
a mingled expression of fear and curiosity; then she concealed her
feelings that were agitating her under the mask of an impenetrable
calmness, showing that for a girl of her age she had great experience
of life.
"Who are you?" she said,--"but I know already; when I first saw you I
suspected it. You are the royalist leader whom they call the Gars. The
ex-bishop of Autun was right in saying we should always believe in
presentiments which give warning of evil."
"What interest have you in knowing the Gars?"
"What interest has he in concealing himself from me who have already
saved his life?" She began to laugh, but the merriment was forced. "I
have wisely prevented you from saying that you love me. Let me tell
you, monsieur, that I abhor you. I am republican, you are royalist; I
would deliver you up if you were not under my protection, and if I had
not already saved your life, and if--" she stopped. These violent
extremes of feeling and the inward struggle which she no longer
attempted to conceal alarmed the young man, who tried, but in vain, to
observe her calmly.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160