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Updated: May 9, 2025
The only words uttered were three or four of Mr. Probert's, with Gaston's rejoinder, as they crossed the Place de la Concorde. "We should have to have them to dinner."
Gaston's forecast of his difficulties showed how finely he could analyse; but that was not rare enough in any French connexion to make his friend stare. He brought Suzanne de Brecourt, she was enchanted with the portrait of the little American, and the rest of the drama began to follow in its order.
We will stand by him to the last drop of our blood," they replied; for the sight of the brave wounded Knight, as well as the example of Gaston's earnestness and devotion, had had a powerful effect, and they unanimously joined the Squire in a solemn pledge to defend both Castle and Knight to the last extremity.
This story, told with Francezka's dramatic fire, impressed me more than I would have admitted to her; and however wildly fanciful her idea was that Regnard's soul had got into Gaston's body, yet, had not I, myself, felt that strangeness she described toward the man I had lived with as a brother for more than seven years?
His teeth chattered and he trembled in every limb when he rang Gaston's bell, and handed the servant his card, saying: "Take this to your master." The few moments before Gaston's appearance seemed to be centuries. He said to himself: "Perhaps it is not he; if it is he, does he know? Does he suspect anything? How will he receive me?"
Come, my Valentine, we will escape, or die together! This is the long-dreamed-of happiness! The glorious future of love and liberty open before us!" He had worked himself into a state of delirious excitement. He seized Valentine around the waist, and tried to draw her toward the gate. As Gaston's exaltation increased, Valentine became composed and almost stolid in her forced calmness.
Bertha, herself, wore Gaston's cameos, and could scarcely restrain her joyful tears when she fastened on her fair bosom the brooch which represented her lover's countenance, and the bracelet that bore her beloved Madeleine's. She was adorned with the images of the two most dear on earth. Need we say that both brides were supremely lovely?
Francezka's face grew scarlet with wrath; she had never thought it worth while to forbid Jacques Haret her presence, never dreaming he would dare to face her. Had he been alone, or with any one but Gaston, I feel sure she would have ordered him from her presence, but to do that when he came by Gaston's invitation and in his company was more than even Francezka was prepared for.
But Gaston's blood was up now, and he was not going to be mastered by his steed, least of all in presence of so many witnesses.
Gaston's hunting stories had made them breathless, his views upon duelling did not free their lungs. There were sentimentalists present; others who, because it had become etiquette not to cross swords, thought it indecent. Archdeacon Varcoe would not be drawn into discussion, but sipped his wine, listened, and watched Gaston.
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