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… Page 38…

                                        Monsieur Beaucaire 



strong man two day' to say all of them。 I can suppose this Winterset know' 

now who bring the charge!〃 

     〃Castle   Nowhere!〃   gasped   Beau   Nash;   falling   back   upon   the   burly 

prop of Mr。 Bantison's shoulder。 

     〃The   Duke   of   Orleans   will   receive   a   message   from   me   within   the 

hour!〃   said   Winterset;   as   he   made   his   way   to   the   door。   His   face   was 

black with rage and shame。 

     〃I   tol'   you   that   I   would   not   soil   my   hand   with   you;〃   answered   the 

young man。        〃If you send a message no gentleman will bring it。 Whoever 

shall bear it will receive a little beating from Francois。〃 

     He   stepped   to   Lady   Mary's   side。     Her   head   was   bent   low;   her   face 

averted。     She seemed to breathe with difficulty; and leaned heavily upon 

a chair。     〃Monseigneur;〃 she faltered in a half whisper; 〃can you … forgive 

me?      It is a bitter … mistake…I have made。         Forgive。〃 

     〃Forgive?〃 he answered; and his voice was as broken as hers; but he 

went on; more firmly: 〃It is … nothing … less than nothing。                There is … only 

jus' one … in the … whole worl' who would not have treat' me the way that 

you treat' me。      It is to her that I am goin' to make reparation。             You know 

something; Henri?          I am not goin' back only because the king forgive' me。 

I am goin' to please him; I am goin' to espouse mademoiselle; our cousin。 

My frien's; I ask your felicitations。〃 

     〃And the king does not compel him!〃 exclaimed young Henri。 

     〃Henri; you want to fight me?〃 cried his brother sharply。                   〃Don' you 

think the King of France is a wiser man than me?〃 

     He offered his hand to Lady Mary。              〃Mademoiselle is fatigue'。          Will 

she honor me?〃 

     He   walked   with   her   to   the   door。  Her   hand   fluttering   faintly   in   his。 

》From   somewhere   about   the   garments   of   one   of   them   a   little   cloud   of 

faded rose…leaves fell; and lay strewn on the floor behind them。 He opened 

the door; and the lights shone on a multitude of eager faces turned toward 

it。   There   was   a   great   hum  of   voices;   and;   over   all;   the   fiddles   wove   a 

wandering air; a sweet French song of the voyageur。 

     He   bowed   very   low;   as;   with   fixed   and   glistening   eyes;   Lady   Mary 



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… Page 39…

                                      Monsieur Beaucaire 



Carlisle;  the   Beauty  of   Bath;   passed slowly  by  him  and   went   out   of   the 

room。 



                                              39 


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