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"has not been so fortunate. He" "Go on! go on!" The wretched man could now scarcely utter Raynal's words; they came from him in a choking groan. "he was killed, poor fellow! while heading a gallant charge upon the enemy's flank." He ground the letter convulsively in his hand, then it fell all crumpled on the floor. "Bless you, Camille!" cried the baroness, "bless you! bless you!
"My kind friends," put in Josephine with a sweet languor, "I cannot let you quarrel about a straw." "It is not about a straw," said Raynal, "it is about you." "The distinction involves a compliment, sir," said Josephine; then she turned to Rose, "Is it possible you do not see Monsieur Raynal's strange proposal in its true light? and you so shrewd in general.
While at Valance Buonaparte competed anonymously for a prize offered by the Academy of Lyons for the best answer to Raynal's Question: "What are the principles and institutions by the application of which mankind can be raised to the highest happiness?" He gained the prize: what were the contents of his Essay we know not.
"Come," cried the baroness, "my lecture has not been lost." Rose followed Jacintha up-stairs. Rose was heart and head on Raynal's side. She had deceived him about Josephine's attachment, and felt all the more desirous to guard him against any ill consequences of it. Then he had been so generous to her: he had left her her sister, who would have gone to Egypt, and escaped this misery, but for her.
This young gentleman will read it to us. His eyes are not dim and troubled. Something tells me that when I hear this letter, I shall find out whether my son lives. Why do you not read it to me, Camille?" cried she, almost fiercely. Camille, thus pressed, obeyed mechanically, and began to read Raynal's letter aloud, scarce knowing what he did, but urged and driven by the baroness.
Rose tried to stop him, but was too late. The next moment Raynal's wife was in his arms. Josephine wrestled long and terribly with nature in that old oak-tree. But who can so struggle forever?
He added, "Tell Colonel Dujardin I count greatly on the courage and discipline of his brigade, and on his own wise measures." Colonel Dujardin bowed. Then he whispered in the other's ear, "Both will alike be wasted." The other colonels waved their hats in triumph at the commander-in-chief's decision, and Raynal's face showed he looked on Dujardin as a sort of spoil-sport happily defeated.
Richard Raynal's words to him had coincided with the struggling emergence of his own soul on to the higher plane; and he had opened his spiritual eyes on to a terrible future for which he had had but little preparation.
Let a man be as bold as a lion, a certain awe still waits upon doubt and mystery; and some of this vague awe crept over Camille Dujardin at Raynal's mysterious speech, and his grave, quiet, significant manner. Had he discovered something, and what? For Josephine's sake, more than his own, Camille was on his guard directly. Raynal looked at him in silence a moment.
Jacintha was sleeping as only tired domestics can sleep. He might have taken the candle and burnt her gown off her back. She had found a step that fitted into the small of her back, and another that supported her head, and there she was fast as a door. At this moment Raynal's voice was heard calling him. "There is a light in that bedroom."
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