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Updated: June 20, 2025
These preparations now prevented Claes from thinking, for the time being, of the Alkahest. Since his return to social life and domestic bliss, the servant of science had recovered his self-love as a man, as a Fleming, as the master of a household, and he now took pleasure in the thought of surprising the whole country.
The little coquetries of the father with his daughters, or his games with little Jean, moistened the eyes of the poor wife, who often left the room to hide the feelings that heroic effort caused her, a heroism the cost of which is well understood by women, a generosity that well-nigh breaks their heart. At such times Madame Claes longed to say, "Kill me, and do what you will!"
"What good do they do you?" continued Pierquin, addressing Balthazar; "you ought to sell them." "Bah! am I in want of money?" replied Claes, in the tone of a man to whom forty thousand francs was a matter of no consequence. There was a moment's silence, during which the children made many exclamations. "See this one, mamma!" "Oh! here's a beauty!" "Tell me the name of that one!"
Peter's at Louvain, which is now in ruins and level with the street, was a great bell of splendid tone, bearing the following inscription: "Claes Noorden Johan Albert de Grave me fecerunt Amstel odamia, MDCCXIV." Haweis mentions also the names of Bartholomews Goethale, 1680, who made a bell now in St.
Madame Claes drew from her pocket a bunch of small keys and gave them to the young girl, pointing to the mahogany closets which lined the ante-chamber as she said: "My daughter, take a set of the Graindorge linen; it is on your right." "Since my dear Balthazar comes back to me, let the return be complete," she said, re-entering her chamber with a soft and arch expression on her face.
Marguerite bade the notary good-night with much affection; she said nothing to Emmanuel, but she pressed his hand and gave him a tearful glance. She sent Felicie away, and when Claes returned to the parlor he found his daughter alone.
Josephine followed him and drew him into her own room, where, alone with her, Balthazar gave vent to his anguish. These tears of a man, these broken words of the hopeless toiler, these bitter regrets of the husband and father, did Madame Claes more harm than all her past sufferings. The victim consoled the executioner.
Before any comments could be made the dead-lights were put on, and the cabins were involved in almost absolute darkness. "Och! let me in beside ye," pleaded Ned with the occupant of the nearest berth. "Awa' wi' ye! Na, na," cried John Watt, pushing the unfortunate man away. "Cheinge yer wat claes first, an' I'll maybe let ye in, if ye can find me again i' the dark."
When the rings of the portiere had slipped with a muffled sound along the wooden rod, she turned towards Claes, and made as though she would hide her physical defects by resting her hand upon a chair and drawing herself gracefully forward. It was calling him to help her.
He kicked in the door of the vestibule between their chambers, but the door of Josephine's bedroom was locked. He gently placed her on a chair, saying to himself, "My God! the key, where is the key?" "Thank you, dear friend," said Madame Claes, opening her eyes. "This is the first time for a long, long while that I have been so near your heart."
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