D'Orgemont closed the opening with much
precaution, and looked at the girl sternly.
"Don't say a word if you love your life. You haven't thrown your
grappling-iron on a worthless building. Do you know that the Marquis
de Montauran is worth more than one hundred thousand francs a year
from lands which have not yet been confiscated? And I read in the
Primidi de l'Ille-et-Vilaine a decree of the Consuls putting an end to
confiscation. Ha! ha! you'll think the Gars a prettier fellow than
ever, won't you? Your eyes are shining like two new louis d'or."
Mademoiselle de Verneuil's face was, indeed, keenly excited when she
heard that well-known voice so near her. Since she had been standing
there, erect, in the midst as it were of a silver mine, the spring of
her mind, held down by these strange events, recovered itself. She
seemed to have formed some sinister resolution and to perceive a means
of carrying it out.
"There is no return from such contempt," she was saying to herself;
"and if he cannot love me, I will kill him--no other woman shall have
him."
"No, abbe, no!" cried the young chief, in a loud voice which was heard
through the panel, "it must be so."
"Monsieur le marquis," replied the Abbe Gudin, haughtily; "you will
scandalize all Brittany if you give that ball at Saint James. It is
preaching, not dancing, which will rouse our villagers.
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