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It was a blazing fire in his breast, a conflagration that might easily get the best of him, a thing which he must fight and triumph over for his own salvation. He did not think of danger for Marie-Anne, for such a thought was inconceivable. The tragedy was one-sided. It was his own folly, his own danger. For just as he loved Marie-Anne, so did she love her husband, St. Pierre.
All present were so impressed with the imminence of the danger, that they were more than willing to obey the priest's orders. Marie-Anne, as soon as she could be moved, was carried to a tiny room under the roof. Mme. d'Escorval retired to her own apartment, and the servants went back to the office.
There is no harm in supplementing the niggardly gifts of nature. You, for instance, Marie-Anne, would look all the better for a little rouge!" She spoke in a high, quavering voice. The Duchesse smiled. Her brother had always been the old Marquise's favourite.
"Such an attempt would be very hazardous," he murmured; "yet, with care, and if one were sure that the secret would be kept " "Oh! the secret will be religiously preserved, Monsieur," interrupted Marie-Anne. With a glance Martial recommended silence; then turning to his father, he said: "One can always consider an expedient, and calculate the consequences that does not bind one.
The night was very dark, and Marie-Anne, as she hastened on, did not notice two motionless figures in the shadow of a clump of lilacs in her little garden. Detected by Mme. Blanche in a palpable falsehood, Chupin was quite crestfallen for a moment.
And without giving the doctor time to respond, he narrated the terrible events that had happened at Sairmeuse, and the history of his unfortunate love-affair. He omitted nothing. He neither concealed his own name nor that of Marie-Anne. When his recital was completed, the physician pressed his hand. "It is just as I supposed," said he. "Believe me, Monsieur Dubois, you must not tarry here.
His bare head and black beard shone in the sun, and between his great shoulders his head looked more than ever to Carrigan like the head of a carven god. And this man, like a mighty tree stricken by lightning, his mind gone, was yet a thing that was more than mere flesh and blood to Marie-Anne Boulain! David turned toward her. Her attitude was changed. It was no longer one of proud defiance.
He would have sworn on his life that Black Roger had never gone at a killing more deliberately than this same Jeanne Marie-Anne Boulain had gone after him behind the rock! Now that it was all over, and he was alive, she was taking him somewhere as coolly and as unexcitedly as though they were returning from a picnic. Carrigan shut his eyes tighter and wondered if he was thinking straight.
Pierre, and St. Pierre would not refuse the wager when it was offered. He would not dare refuse. More than that, he would accept eagerly, strong in the faith that Bateese would whip him as he had whipped all other fighters who had come up against him along the Three Rivers. And when Marie-Anne knew what that wager was to be, she, too, would pray for the gods of chance to be with Concombre Bateese!
"What have you done to Marie-Anne your wife?" asked David. It was hard for him to get the words out. A terrible thing was gripping at his throat, and the clutch of it grew tighter as he saw the wild light in Black Roger's eyes. "Tomorrow you will know, m'sieu. But not to-night. You must wait until tomorrow."
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