It was easy to see that the miser had made preparations
to spend more than one day in this retreat if the events of the civil
war compelled him to hide himself.
"Don't brush against that wall, you might whiten yourself," said
d'Orgemont suddenly, as he hurriedly put his hand between the girl's
shawl and the stones which seemed to have been lately whitewashed. The
old man's action produced quite another effect from that he intended.
Marie looked about her and saw in one corner a sort of projection, the
shape of which forced from her a cry of terror, for she fancied it was
that of a human being standing erect and mortared into the wall.
D'Orgemont made a violent sign to her to hold her tongue, and his
little eyes of a porcelain blue showed as much fear as those of his
companion.
"Fool! do you think I murdered him? It is the body of my brother," and
the old man gave a lugubrious sigh. "He was the first sworn-in priest;
and this was the only asylum where he was safe against the fury of the
Chouans and the other priests. He was my elder brother, and he alone
had the patience to each me the decimal calculus. Oh! he was a good
priest! He was economical and laid by money. It is four years since he
died; I don't know what was the matter with him; perhaps it was that
priests are so in the habit of kneeling down to pray that he couldn't
get accustomed to standing upright here as I do.
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