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Updated: May 31, 2025
"I am quite serious, monsieur. There came a formal letter to my uncle this morning from M. de La Tour d'Azyr, announcing the visit and its object. I will not say that it did not surprise us a little..." "Oh, I see," cried Andre-Louis, in relief. "I understand. For a moment I had almost feared..." He broke off, looked at her, and shrugged. "Why do you stop?
Yet his pride and his sense of the justice due to be done admitted of no weakening. In bitterness he realized now, as he looked from uncle to niece his glance, usually so direct and bold, now oddly furtive that though to-morrow he might kill Andre-Louis, yet even by his death Andre-Louis would take vengeance upon him.
If you should have the misfortune to give way to that, you will be treated as people in revolt, and blood will flow." Andre-Louis was in the gardens of the Palais Royal, that place of shops and puppet-shows, of circus and cafes, of gaming houses and brothels, that universal rendezvous, on that Sunday morning when the news of Necker's dismissal spread, carrying with it dismay and fury.
Once a week one of the diligences going in each direction would swerve aside from the highroad to call at Gavrillac, to bring and take letters, newspapers, and sometimes passengers. It was usually by this coach that Andre-Louis came and went when the occasion offered. At present, however, he was too much in haste to lose a day awaiting the passing of that diligence.
It was horrible. Yet God would see the righteousness of that anger. And in no case be man's interpretation of Divinity what it might could that one sin outweigh the loving good that Philippe had ever practised, the noble purity of his great heart. God after all, reflected Andre-Louis, was not a grand-seigneur.
Mabey was a vassal of Gavrillac, and Vilmorin hoped to move the Lord of Gavrillac to demand at least some measure of reparation for the widow and the three orphans which that brutal deed had made. But because Andre-Louis was Philippe's dearest friend indeed, his almost brother the young seminarist sought him out in the first instance.
And already she had derogated from the increase of dignity accruing to her from his very intention to translate her to so great an eminence. Not again would she suffer it; not again would she be so weak and childish as to permit Andre-Louis to utter his ribald comments upon a man by comparison with whom he was no better than a lackey.
Over the heads of the crowd Andre-Louis caught a few of the phrases flung forth by that eager voice. "It was the promise of the King... It is the King's authority they flout... They arrogate to themselves the whole sovereignty in Brittany. The King has dissolved them... These insolent nobles defying their sovereign and the people..."
But you... Oh, you, you come out here and smoke, and take the air, and talk of her as another man's leavings. I wonder I didn't strike you for the word." He tore his arm from the other's grip, and looked almost as if he would strike him now. "You should have done it," said Andre-Louis. "It's in your part." With an imprecation Leandre turned on his heel to go. Andre-Louis arrested his departure.
"Do you know that you are an amazement to me?" said the deputy. "From the robe to the buskin, and now from the buskin to the sword! What will be the end of you, I wonder?" "The gallows, probably." "Pish! Be serious. Why not the toga of the senator in senatorial France? It might be yours now if you had willed it so." "The surest way to the gallows of all," laughed Andre-Louis.
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