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Updated: May 28, 2025
She has just lost her aunt, and is all alone; she is exposed to the power of I know not what enemy. Can it be Mercanson? He may have spoken of my conversation with him, and, seeing that I was jealous of Dalens, may have guessed the rest. Assuredly he is the snake who has been hissing about my well-beloved flower. I must punish him, and I must repair the wrong I have done Brigitte. Fool that I am!
Even his manner of walking, which was not that of youth and health, repelled me; as for his glance, it might be said that he had none. I do not know what to think of a man whose eyes have nothing to say. These are the signs which led me to an unfavorable opinion of Mercanson, an opinion which was unfortunately correct.
"Monsieur, I am afraid of no one, and I have told you what you ought to know." "You have told me what you think I ought to know, but not what you know. Madame Pierson is not sick; I am sure of it." "How do you know?" "The servant told me so. Why has she closed her door against me, and why did she send you to tell me of it?" Mercanson saw a peasant passing.
Even his manner of walking, which was not that of youth and health, repelled me; as for his glance, it might be said that he had none. I do not know what to think of a man whose eyes have nothing to say. These are the signs which led me to an unfavorable opinion of Mercanson, an opinion which was unfortunately correct.
That thought, sincere enough on my part, had great weight with a woman of lofty devotion whose soul was as pious as it was ardent. It was probably the only consideration that induced Madame Pierson to permit me to see her. I was preparing to visit her one day when some one knocked at my door, and I saw Mercanson enter, that priest I had met in the garden on the occasion of my first visit.
Wearied by this harangue, in order to conceal my rising disgust, I sat down on the grass and began to play with the goat. Mercanson turned on me his dull and lifeless eye: "The celebrated Vergniaud," said he, "was afflicted with the habit of sitting on the ground and playing with animals." "It is a habit that is innocent enough," I replied.
Three times a day I called at Madame Pierson's and was each time refused admittance. I received one letter from her; she said that my assiduity was causing talk in the village and begged me to call less frequently. Not a word about Mercanson or her illness.
That thought, sincere enough on my part, had great weight with a woman of lofty devotion whose soul was as pious as it was ardent. It was probably the only consideration that induced Madame Pierson to permit me to see her. I was preparing to visit her one day when some one knocked at my door, and I saw Mercanson enter, that priest I had met in the garden on the occasion of my first visit.
In the name of Heaven, help me live! God made me a better man than the one you see before you." Brigitte held out her hands and caressed me tenderly. She begged me to tell her all that had led to this sad scene. I spoke of what I had learned from Larive but did not dare confess that I had interviewed Mercanson. She insisted that I listen to her explanation.
It was Mercanson who had repeated in the village and in the chateau my conversation with him about Dalens and the suspicions that, in spite of myself, I had allowed him clearly to see. Every one knows how bad news travels in the provinces, flying from mouth to mouth and growing as it flies; that is what had happened in this case.
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