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Updated: May 26, 2025
The man whom M. d'Escorval believed to be his friend did not pause in his labor of unwinding the rope, and it was in the most tranquil voice that he responded: "As you see, I am freeing myself from this burden of rope, which I find extremely uncomfortable. There are at least sixty yards of it, I should think and what a bundle it makes! I feared they would discover it under my cloak."
Mme. d'Escorval took a seat in the cart beside her husband; the priest watched them as they drove away, and not until the sound of their carriage-wheels had died away in the distance did he venture to go back to the Borderie. He was ascending the stairs when he heard moans that seemed to issue from the chamber of death. The sound sent all his blood wildly rushing to his heart.
Reclining upon a divan in his library the Duc de Sairmeuse was engaged in reading, when Otto, his valet de chambre, came to inform him that a messenger was below, charged with delivering into the duke's own hands a letter from M. Maurice d'Escorval. With a bound, Martial was on his feet. "Is it possible?" he exclaimed. Then he added, quickly: "Let the messenger enter."
And when the Marquis de Courtornieu asked if she would consent to testify against Baron d'Escorval, she coldly replied: "I think that such is my duty, and I shall fulfil it, however painful it may be." She knew perfectly well that her deposition would be the baron's death-warrant; but she persisted in her resolve, veiling her hatred and her insensibility under the name of virtue.
He was overwhelmed by the grandeur of soul exhibited by this peasant, who, after saving the life of his successful rival at the Croix d'Arcy, had wrested Baron d'Escorval from the hands of his executioners, and who had never allowed a complaint nor a reproach to escape his lips, and whose protection over the woman he adored extended even from beyond the grave.
But there is a mortal feud between us, and for that very reason you haven't the right to prolong my tortures! It would be infamous cowardice if you did so. However, instead of M. d'Escorval, he sees M. Segmuller. Then what happens? He is surprised, and his eyes betray the astonishment he feels when he realizes the generosity of his enemy an enemy from whom he had expected no indulgence.
Champagne was served with the dessert; and the company drank to the allies whose victorious bayonets had forced a passage for the King to return to Paris; they drank to the English, to the Prussians, and to the Russians, whose horses were trampling the crops under foot. The name of d'Escorval heard, above the clink of the glasses, suddenly aroused Martial from his dream of enchantment.
Marie-Anne and her father were kneeling on the hearth, upon which a huge fire was blazing. On hearing the door open, they turned; and at the sight of Maurice, they both sprang up, blushing and confused. "What brings you here?" they exclaimed in the same breath. Under other circumstances, Maurice d'Escorval would have been dismayed by such a hostile greeting, but now he scarcely noticed it.
Where are you going? To rejoin the sister of the man, whom I now recognize?" Beside himself, Martial pushed his wife roughly aside. "Wretch!" said he, "how dare you insult the noblest and purest of women? Ah, well yes I am going to find Marie-Anne. Farewell!" And he passed on. The ledge of rock upon which Baron d'Escorval and Corporal Bavois rested in their descent from the tower was very narrow.
"Everything is at the Borderie," said the honest fellow, on returning from his last trip, "and Mademoiselle Lacheneur bids the baron bring a good appetite." "I shall have one, never fear!" responded the baron, gayly. "We shall all have one." Father Poignot himself was busily engaged in harnessing his best horse to the cart which was to convey M. d'Escorval to his new home.
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