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Updated: October 15, 2025
In an instant of time, and by a stroke of Francezka's pen, all of his grievances, his resolves, his fierce resentment, melted away like the mists of the morning. Nobody could complain that Gaston Cheverny was coldly reasonable in his love.
I replied respectfully that I did not understand her allusion. "Fudge!" she cried; "you are an infant, forsooth! You know less about Maurice of Saxe than any man in Paris, I warrant." Francezka's laughing arch glance showed me that I could expect no help in that quarter, so I prepared to defend myself. "Madame, you are quite right," I replied.
Francezka's father, it would appear, did not take kindly to the huge porcelain stoves of the region, and followed the custom of his country in having fireplaces in which great logs of wood were burned. Francezka ran from room to room, Gaston Cheverny following her.
He always rode ahead two stages to secure post-horses; and if there was any dispute about it, I could always bring the postmaster to the right way of thinking. But what was quite as effective was Francezka's soft and insinuating address, which never failed to get horses or anything else she wanted. It is a part of human nature to delight in exercising a power with which one is gifted.
The sky was studded with glowing stars, and a great silver lamp of a moon made the night radiant. Below, lights were shining from every window, and the swell of the music kept rhythm with the beat of the dancers' feet. But there, at that lonely height, all was still as death. Francezka's window opened. It was not four feet from me. "I knew your step," she said. I remained silent and awkward.
To be that, I must be ever well dressed, well read, well behaved such, I hope I am." The flood of her vehemence arrested the bishop's impatient walk. Father Benart sighed a little, as any one might, at this poor, human heart of Francezka's, laid bare, and beating desperately against the fate that seemed closing around her.
On the fifteenth day after our arrival, about noon, as I stood on the terrace making some changes, under Count Saxe's eye, for one of the guns to be planted there, I happened to glance toward the point of the mainland, and saw a strange figure standing there waving a crimson mantle by way of a signal; and it was Francezka's mantle. Count Saxe saw it as soon as I, and recognized it.
Also I told her that we were well convinced Gaston must be on the farther side of the Rhine; I did not say "if alive." I could not, with Francezka's lovely, miserable eyes upon me. But she was perfectly calm and collected. I never saw her more entirely mistress of herself. I then asked her of her own affairs since we had parted.
Two sedan chairs were in waiting for the ladies and a red domino and mask for me, in which I looked exactly like the devil. Madame Villars came tripping down into the courtyard, wearing a white domino and mask, followed by Francezka in a black and silver domino and mask. I could not see Francezka's face, and so did not know whether she looked well or ill, happy or unhappy.
His description tallied perfectly with Gaston Cheverny, and the absolute certainty was reached by the innkeeper's wife producing a fine handkerchief which had been left behind, with Gaston Cheverny's initials embroidered on it by Francezka's own hand! When Francezka heard this she was like one ready to die with joy.
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