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She went not with tears, but self-possessed, imperious in mien, strong in despair. Coming into the presence of Madeline Desperiers, it was not needful that she should speak to make known the result of her audience. "Have you learned when the vessel sails?" was her first question. It was her reply to the lady's glance, a glance for which there were no attendant words in all the language.
His requirement was, that the petitioner should be self-possessed and brief, which requisition, hinted by the doorkeeper, and reiterated by the General himself, had not always precisely the effect intended. The fault was not in Mlle. Desperiers that she had proved so unsuccessful in her petitions, as has been made sufficiently clear.
He wants me for his wife, a purchase, you perceive." Elizabeth Montier did not heed the scorn and bitterness of these words, as Mlle. Desperiers spoke them. The blood in her veins seemed turning to fire, it swept through her body and brain like the flood of a volcano, and she thought, she who knew the prisoner's life, and all that captivity was to him,
Towns and villages are built over the land now, but the old house stands as it has stood through ten generations. There she lives. If she stands by the library-window today, she can see the church built by her great-grandfather, and the little town of Desperiers, which had in his day a population of tenantry.
It was no uncommon thing for a young girl in neat raiment to stand waiting admittance before the door of the Château Desperiers. Hospitality was called upon in those days not so often, perhaps, as benevolence; and for its charity the chateau had a reputation far and wide; the expectation of the poor perished only in fruition there.
She was satisfied, when, having said all, she paused, and had now no further fear for her own heart's integrity or of the listener's constancy. A long silence followed her speech. At length said Mlle. Desperiers, "I see it all. You are God's messenger from that other world. I have believed too little. You are truer and wiser than I. Lead me, dear child! Shall we go to Foray?
Some state that the author, a friend of Clement Marot, intended to preach by the use of allegories the Reformed religion. Others say that it was directed against the manners and conduct of some members of the Court. Whether Morin's request was granted I know not, nor whether Desperiers shared his imprisonment. At any rate, the author died in 1544 from an attack of frenzy.
She spoke now with vehemence, and as she spoke glanced at the portrait in the alcove. Quickly the eyes of Madeline Desperiers followed hers. How had this stranger managed to discover what was so securely hidden from the observation of ordinary eyes? She did not even suspect the light which had illumined that dim recess, and made it brighter to the gazer than the bright garden even.
The case of Stephen Cordier was of sufficient importance to come under discussion before the governing power as often as that power underwent a change in person or policy. Twice petitions in his behalf had been presented, once by the lady of Château Desperiers in person, petitions that were in themselves the proudest praise of him, the greatest honor that could be conferred upon him.
She stood by the lofty, narrow windows, to see what he had seen when standing before them, that town the ancient Desperiers laid out for his tenants in the ancient days, the church, the pond, the park, the garden, so vast, and so astonishing for beauty, the gazer scarce believed her eyes. And she remembered beds of flowers under a prison-wall, and who that day looked on them.
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