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Updated: May 10, 2025
Pierre Labarre stroked the white hair from his forehead with his long bony hand and slowly said: "I know only one Marquis of Fougereuse." "And who should bear this title if not I?" cried the marquis, angrily. "The son of the man who was murdered at Leigoutte in the year 1805," replied Pierre.
Yes, there was the large, well-lighted room where Françoise, with her little girl in her arms, had cordially welcomed the travelers, while little Jacques flew about with bright cheeks and brighter eyes. The sign, too, was just the same as the old one. The only difference was that the tri-colored flag did not wave in the morning breeze. The new proprietor was named Pierre Labarre. Who was he?
"I know but one Marquis de Fongereues!" he said, slowly. "And who may that be?" asked the Marquis, bringing his closed hand down upon the table. "The son of the man who was murdered in 1815, in the village of Leigoutte!" answered Labarre, with perfect calmness. "Murdered! That man fell when fighting against the true masters of France!"
This glory of the Labarre of the Three Dauphins was reflected upon the Labarre of the Cross of Colbas, at a distance of five and twenty leagues. It was said of him in the town, "That is the cousin of the man of Grenoble." The man bent his steps towards this inn, which was the best in the country-side. He entered the kitchen, which opened on a level with the street.
Death had released her from her sufferings after she had been permitted to enjoy the last, and, to her, highest earthly joy. Here Fanfaro's story ended. Girdel knew something to add to it after Fanfaro had closed. He and Bobichel had succeeded in overtaking the funeral cortege which the marquis and Pierre Labarre conducted to the family vault.
"The paper is signed with Simon's full name." The Marquis fell on his knees. "Ah! Monsieur, these are terrible days, but you will not say again that you poisoned Fanfar." Fongereues shuddered, and endeavored to hide his face. Labarre felt dizzy with horror. "Answer me," he repeated. Fongereues answered in a low voice: "Kill me! I have killed my son!"
Several physicians stood about the so suddenly deceased young man, and they declared that death was brought about by the bursting of a vein. Crushed and annihilated, Pierre Labarre hurried to the Fougereuse mansion, and the marquis trembled at sight of him, as if he were a spectre. "Pierre Labarre," he cried in a hollow voice, "you come to gloat over my grief. Ah, you can triumph now.
It is stated on good authority that two of Boieldieu's pupils, Adolph Adam and Labarre, assisted him in the work, and that the lovely overture was written in one evening, Boieldieu taking the andante and the two others the remaining movements. Though a little old-fashioned in some of its phrasing, the opera still retains its freshness and beautiful sentiment.
Fanfar was liberated, and restored to life by the physician whom Gudel had brought with him. The Marquis de Fongereues went on to the château with the body of the Vicomte. "And Labarre, where is he?" "In the boat waiting for us, but I have not yet told you all. We should have made an end of Cyprien, for he threatened to denounce us. The only thing for Fanfar is to flee the country.
The two men, when they fled from the cottage of old Labarre, were entirely routed and discomfited. It was not the Marquis who was afraid of the pistol he fled from the echo of his father's words, which the old servant had repeated. Cyprien could hardly draw a breath without pain, for the dog had wounded him on the throat. The Marquis was enraged with himself that he had taken no arms with him.
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