The only great and true misfortune that could strike
me now would be to have him repel me. M. de Chalusse's death
leaves me without means--without bread; but now I can almost bless
my poverty since it enables me to ask him what would become of me
if he abandoned me, and who would protect me if he refused to do
so. The brilliant career he dreamed of is ended, you say. Ah,
well! I will console him, and though we are unfortunate, we may
yet be happy. Our enemies are triumphant--so be it: we should
only tarnish our honor by stooping to contend against such
villainy. But in some new land, in America, perhaps, we shall be
able to find some quiet spot where we can begin a new and better
career." It was almost impossible to believe that it was
Mademoiselle Marguerite, usually so haughtily reserved, who was
now speaking with such passionate vehemence. And to whom was she
talking in this fashion? To a stranger, whom she saw for the first
time. But she was urged on by circumstances, the influence of
which was stronger than her own will. They had led her to reveal
her dearest and most sacred feelings and to display her real
nature free from any kind of disguise.
However, the magistrate concealed the emotion and sympathy which
filled his heart and refused to admit that the girl's hopes were
likely to be realized. "And if M. Ferailleur refused to accept
your sacrifice?" he asked.
"It is not a sacrifice, monsieur.
Pages:
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266