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Updated: June 21, 2025
She left the order for the monogram, and the affable shopkeeper promised to send the finished seal home the next day. He seemed greatly interested in his two young customers, and had it not been for Lisette's sharp eye he would have urged them to buy even more of his wares.
This man, having been attacked and wounded by several of the enemy, fell under Lisette's belly, and was seizing my leg to pull himself up, when a Russian grenadier, too drunk to stand steady, wishing to finish him by a thrust in the breast, lost his balance, and the point of his bayonet went astray into my cloak, which at that moment was puffed out by the wind.
She said it with as little emotion as if she had spoken of an underdone pasty. The count hastened through Lisette's room to Henry's bedside. The poor fellow was lying among the pillows; his mouth and one eye were painfully distorted. "Henry!" ejaculated the count, in a tone of alarm; "my poor Henry, you are very ill."
She was about turning away, when Violet stopped her. "Lisette," she said, holding out her hand, "good-by. You have been very kind to me, and I shall always remember you kindly. I hope we shall meet again some time." Tears were in Lisette's eyes as she responded in a similar strain, and then led Violet from the shed.
Walcott, after a few ineffectual remarks of the same sort, began to sob violently, and finally to work herself into another hysterical fit, during which her husband coolly rang the bell, and left her to Lisette's not very tender care. When he returned she was once more quiet and subdued.
I needn't go into too many details now, but there's no doubt that he knew, and was in touch with, Lisette Beaurepaire, and Miss Lennard positively identifies him as the man who met her and Lisette at Hull, and represented himself as Lisette's brother. Now then, Ebers we'll stick to that name for the sake of clearness was in and out of my rooms a good deal, of course.
At last, just before eleven, he saw Lisette's smart figure in a heavy travelling coat crossing the courtyard, and a few moments later she was shown into his room. "You're late!" the old man said, as soon as the door was closed. "I feared that something had gone wrong! Why did you leave Madrid? What has happened?" he asked eagerly. "Happened!" she echoed in French. "Why, very nearly a disaster!
It was, of course, unrecognizable, but every article which she wore tended to prove that she was Vane Cameron's lost bride-elect. As such he claimed her, without a doubt as to her identity, and, as we already know, laid her to rest beneath the shadow of the venerable beech in one corner of the church-yard at Mentone. Lisette's parents never once suspected what her fate had been.
Little by little, however, she understood more, for it befell that she was enlightened by Lisette's questions, which reproduced the effect of her own upon those for whom she sat in the very darkness of Lisette. Was she not herself convulsed by such innocence? In the presence of it she often imitated the shrieking ladies. There were at any rate things she really couldn't tell even a French doll.
"You may light the candle now," she whispered; "then we will go back to Lisette." Laczko lighted the candle, then shouldered his gun, and preceded his young mistress down the staircase to the lower story. They had almost reached the door of Lisette's room when Marie, who had been peering sharply ahead, stopped abruptly, and exclaimed in a startled tone: "There is a man!"
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