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Updated: May 3, 2025
As the second blow fell across Jules's smarting shoulders, a low, blood-curdling wail came from the dark depths of the barn. Joyce had not practised that dismal moan of a banshee to no purpose in her ghost dances at home with Jack. It rose and fell and quivered and rose again in cadences of horror. There was something awful, something inhuman, in that fiendish, long-drawn shriek.
"It's my brother Jules's grandson," was the curt explanation that monsieur offered. "Jules is dead, and so is his son and all the family, died in America. This is his son's son, Jules, the last of the name. If I choose to take him from a foreign poorhouse and give him shelter, it's nobody's business, Louis Brossard, but my own."
In the meantime Fanfaro had helped the marquis on the back of the horse, and now he raised his lantern to untie the knot of the rope with which he had bound the animal to a tree. The light of the lamp fell full upon his face, and the marquis uttered a slight cry; his rescuer resembled in a startling way the old Marquis of Fougereuse. Had he Jules's son before him?
I have something to show you." Captain Jules's broad face shone with good humor. He was clad in his weather-beaten tarpaulins, and on his shoulder perched the monkey. Madge covered the sides of her curly head with her hands. "Please don't let the monkey pull my hair this morning," she pleaded as the captain came up.
His fifty years and gray hairs made him enjoy among women the confidence inspired by mature age, although he had not given up the thought of love affairs. He talked of his native mountains with enthusiasm. He would at any time sing the "Ranz des Vaches" with tears in his eyes, and was the best story-teller in the Comtesse Jules's circle.
While he and his mother were at supper with the girls they heard the sound of Captain Jules's voice calling to them over the water. He had to come ashore lower down the bay, where the water was deeper than it was near the houseboat, but he always hallooed as he approached. "O Jenny Ann!" faltered Madge, trembling like a leaf, "it is our captain. Perhaps he has brought Tania back with him.
It was in Captain Jules's strong arms that little Tania made the journey to a private sanatorium at Cape May. Madge sat beside the captain, her eyes fixed upon the little, dark head that lay against the captain's broad shoulder.
They soon saw me, for their eyes were all round about their heads; they had the mark of a glove on their cheeks." The colour began to come back, into Jules's face; he gesticulated with his cigar and became more and more dramatic. "They waited for me. 'Tiens! said one, 'this gentleman was with him.
"No; the will and fortune belong to the Marquis of Fougereuse, Jules's son." "Enough; the will is here in your house; the rest will take care of itself." Hereupon the marquis gave a penetrating whistle, and when Simon appeared his master said to him: "Take hold of this scoundrel!" "Bravo! force is the only thing," cried Simon, as he rushed upon the old man.
Two volantes were immediately before the door, and the Marquise Aldamar, the Captain of the Port, Laura, and I started for La Rosa, Jules's plantation. It was an enchanting drive, though a long one, leading, as it did, through avenues of royal palms, and it was quite six o'clock before we reached Jules's house.
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