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Updated: June 17, 2025
They say the most preposterous things with a laugh, and are ready on every occasion to repeat the speech made in the early days of her married life by pretty Madame de Bauvan to her husband, whom she came to fetch away from the Palais: "Make haste and pass sentence, and come away."
"Come and dance," cried the Comte de Bauvan, "and happen what will! After all," he added, gaily, "it is better, my friends, to pray to God than the saints. Let us fight first, and see what comes of it." "Ha! that's good advice," said Brigaut. "I have never yet known a day's pay drawn in the morning." The assembly dispersed about the rooms, where the guests were now arriving.
Alarmed at such enormous expense, and not imaging that her son could earn much money by painting naked women, she obtained, thanks to her confessor, the Abbe Loraux, a place worth seven hundred francs a year in a lottery-office belonging to the Comtesse de Bauvan, the widow of a Chouan leader.
Several persons, the Count, and the doctors were assembled in the little drawing-room adjoining the Countess' bedroom; but to spare him this stain on his soul's honor, the Comte de Bauvan dismissed everybody, and remained alone with his friend. It was bad enough even then for the Vice-President of the Privy Council to see this gloomy and sinister visitor come in.
Camusot bowed apologetically. "God grant you may never know these crucial perplexities of our life. A man might sink under less! I have just spent the night with one of my most intimate friends. I have but two friends, the Comte Octave de Bauvan and the Comte de Serizy.
Monsieur de Bauvan gave a low ejaculation of surprise and looked with bewilderment at Marie, who completed the effect of her words by leaning against the chimney in the artless and innocent attitude of a child. "Mademoiselle," cried the count, "I entreat your forgiveness, unworthy as I am of it." "I have nothing to forgive," she replied.
"He thinks I still love him," she thought, "and does not wish to be confounded with mere flatterers." She refused to dance again. Then, as if the ball were given for her, she walked about on the arm of the Comte de Bauvan, to whom she was pleased to show some familiarity.
The Comtesse de Bauvan, to whom the Abbe Loraux explained the circumstances of the widow Bridau, promised, in case her manager should leave, to give the place to Agathe; meantime she stipulated that the widow should be taken as assistant, and receive a salary of six hundred francs. Poor Agathe, who was obliged to be at the office by ten in the morning, had scarcely time to get her dinner.
They will sneer at a loyal Vendean or a brave Chouan, because he is old and the sword he drew for the good cause dangles on his withered legs, palsied with exposure. Can you say that we are wrong in feeling thus?" "You talk well, Monsieur du Vissard, but you are over hasty," replied the marquis. "Listen, marquis," said the Comte de Bauvan, in a whisper.
His mind conceived the state of that wild country where lingered still the memory of the Comtes de Bauvan, de Longuy, the exploits of Marche-a-Terre, the massacre at La Vivetiere, the death of the Marquis de Montauran of whose prowess Madame de la Chanterie had told him. This sort of vision of things, of men, of places was rapid.
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