The peasants advanced one by one and knelt down, presenting their guns
to the preacher, who laid them upon the altar. Galope-Chopine offered
his old duck-shooter. The three priests sang the hymn "Veni, Creator,"
while the celebrant wrapped the instruments of death in bluish clouds
of incense, waving the smoke into shapes that appeared to interlace
one another. When the breeze had dispersed the vapor the guns were
returned in due order. Each man received his own on his knees from the
hands of the priests, who recited a Latin prayer as they returned
them. After the men had regained their places, the profound enthusiasm
of the congregation, mute till then, broke forth and resounded in a
formidable manner.
"/Domine salvum fac regem/!" was the prayer which the preacher intoned
in an echoing voice, and was then sung vehemently by the people. The
cry had something savage and warlike in it. The two notes of the word
/regem/, readily interpreted by the peasants, were taken with such
energy that Mademoiselle de Verneuil's thoughts reverted almost
tenderly to the exiled Bourbon family. These recollections awakened
those of her past life. Her memory revived the fetes of a court now
dispersed, in which she had once a share. The face of the marquis
entered her reverie. With the natural mobility of a woman's mind she
forgot the scene before her and reverted to her plans of vengeance,
which might cost her her life or come to nought under the influence of
a look.
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