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Updated: May 2, 2025
Glaud Burge handed them, down at the end of a ramrod. "But see yonder," he said to François Bastarack his companion, as they stood and watched the messengers tramp away. He pointed to Klussman below the fort poor Klussman whom the pearly vapors of morning could not conceal. "I could have done that myself in first heat, but I like not treating with a man who did it coolly."
You must mount the wall where the gate is: that side of the fort toward the river, the camp being on another side." Klussman again smoothed her hair and argued with her as with a child. "I cannot betray my lady. You see how madame trusts me." She grieved against his hard breastplate with insistence which pierced even that. "I am indeed not fit to be thought on beside the lady!"
Her vanity and self-satisfaction, her pliant gesture and skillful wild music, made her appear some soulless little being from the woods who mocked at man's tense sternness. Klussman took little notice of any one in the hall, but waited by the closed door so relentless a sentinel that Zélie was reminded of her duty.
"Good day to madame the former Madame Klussman," said the dwarf. Marguerite gathered herself in defense to arise and leave her stool. But Le Rossignol gathered her mandolin in equal readiness to give pursuit. And not one woman in the barracks would have invited her quarry.
But to Klussman it was the brilliancy of passing delirium. He did not feel when gun-metal touched his hands. The sound of the incoming tide, which could be heard betwixt artillery boomings, and the hint of birds which that sky gave, were mute against his thoughts. Though D'Aulnay's loss was visibly heavy, it proved also an ill day for the fort.
Klussman turned away, and Zélie whimpered. But Le Rossignol thrust her head around the settle to see what manner of creature it was over which Madame Marie sobbed aloud.
The poor girl raised her swimming eyes and looked at him in the fashion he remembered when she was ill; when he had nursed her with agonies of fear that she might die. The old relations between them were thus suggested in one blinding flash. Klussman turned away so sick that the walls danced around him.
His wife died. They made me take care of it," said Marguerite resentfully. "Why didn't you tell me that?" exclaimed Klussman. "You made me lie to my lady!" Marguerite had no answer. He understood her reticence, and the degradation which could not be excused. "Who made you take care of it?" "He did." "D'Aulnay?" Klussman uttered through his teeth. "Yes; I don't like him."
That instant the half-hid mandolin burst into quavering melodies. "Thou art back again, Nightingale?" called the lady, descending. "Yes, Madame Marie." "Madame!" exclaimed Klussman, and as his voice escaped repression it rang through the hall. He advanced, but his lady lifted her finger to hold him back. "Presently, Klussman. The first matter in hand is to rebuke this runaway."
Le Rossignol squinted at him, and the man went into the barracks and told his wife that he felt shooting pains in his limbs that instant. "Come hither, gentle Swiss," said the dwarf striking the plectrum into her mandolin strings, "and I will reward thee for thy back and all thy courtly services." Klussman stepped to the wall and looked with her into the fort.
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