"No," I answered, shaking my head. We had all risen out of
respect to him, and were standing a little group about him.
"Just so; it is all right then," he answered, looking at us as it
seemed to me with grave good-nature. "It is nothing. Go your
way. But--I have a son yonder not much younger than you, young
gentlemen. And if you had understood, I should have said to you,
'Do not go! There are enough sheep for the shearer!'"
He was turning away with this oracular saying when Croisette
touched his sleeve. "Pray can you tell us if it be true," the
lad said eagerly, "that the Admiral de Coligny was wounded
yesterday?"
"It is true," the other answered, turning his grave eyes on his
questioner, while for a moment his stern look failed him, "It is
true, my boy," he added with an air of strange solemnity. "Whom
the Lord loveth, He chasteneth. And, God forgive me for saying
it, whom He would destroy, He first maketh mad."
He had gazed with peculiar favour at Croisette's girlish face, I
thought: Marie and I were dark and ugly by the side of the boy.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81