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Updated: May 31, 2025
The young girl kissed Agricola's mother, and replied: "I was very busy about some work, mother; I did not wish to lose a moment; I have only just finished it. I am going down to fetch some charcoal do you want anything while I'm out?" "No, no, my child, thank you. But I am very uneasy. It is half-past eight, and Agricola is not come home."
The weather, damp and foggy during a portion of the night, became clear and cold towards morning. Through the glazed skylight of Agricola's garret, where he lay with his father, a corner of the blue sky could be seen. The apartment of the young blacksmith had an aspect as poor as the sewing-girl's.
The nearer the carriage approached the group of which he formed a part, the more did Agricola's heart sink within him.
At the sight of Mother Bunch, whom she recognized for she had told her, the day before, of Agricola's arrest and Mdlle. de Cardoville's madness Florine recoiled a step, so much was she moved with pity at the appearance of the young sempstress.
"Fall in my opinion! not a whit I love thee the better, man; why, we have story for story against each other, and I can think with less shame on having exposed myself about that cursed Praetorium though I am still convinced Agricola's camp must have been somewhere in this neighbourhood.
And three years later, that is in 1912, he privately published, in sumptuous form, with scrupulously exact reproduction of all of its many curious old woodcuts, an English translation of Agricola's "De Re Metallica," the first great treatise on mining and metallurgy, originally published in Latin in 1556, only one hundred years after Gutenberg had printed his first book.
His instructions were quickly given, for Raoul to take his horse and ride down to the family mansion, to break gently to his mother the news of Agricola's disaster, and to say to his kinsmen with imperative emphasis, not to touch the marchande des calas till he should come. Then he hurried to the rue Royale. But when Raoul arrived at the mansion he saw at a glance that the news had outrun him.
How much less was it an indication of what he would have seen in that mansion early the next morning, when there was found just outside of Agricola's bedroom door a fresh egg, not cracked, according to Honoré's maxim, but smashed, according to the lore of the voudous. Who could have got in in the night? And did the intruder get in by magic, by outside lock-picking, or by inside collusion?
Angela, who, from this time, might be called Agricola's betrothed, justified in every point the flattering portrait which the smith had drawn of her in his interview with poor Mother Bunch. The charming girl, seventeen years of age at most, dressed with as much simplicity as neatness, was seated by the side of her mother. When Agricola entered, she blushed slightly at seeing him.
The evening before, tortured with anxiety as to Agricola's fate, the girl had been unable to work; the miseries of expectation and hope delayed had prevented her from doing so; now another day would be lost, and yet it was necessary to live.
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