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Updated: May 26, 2025
"Ah!" murmured the unhappy man, "how terrible will be your life, a scene of daily strife with your father and mother." After a tender farewell, Sabine and Modeste left. Andre had wished to be permitted to go out and procure a vehicle, but this the young girl negatived, and took her leave, saying. "I shall see M. de Breulh-Faverlay to-morrow."
"Rich!" exclaimed Modeste; "what can that signify! Do you not see that Monsieur de Canalis is one of those men who are destined for the highest places in the State. He has more than fortune; he possesses that which gives fortune." "He will be minister or ambassador," said Monsieur Mignon. "That won't hinder tax-payers from having to pay the costs of his funeral," remarked the notary.
"Oh!" exclaimed Canalis, with apparent simplicity, "so that is why La Briere rode at full gallop from Havre to Paris?" "Does your secretary take such liberties?" said Modeste, turning pale, and throwing the whip to Francoise with an impetuosity that expressed scorn. "Give me your whip, papa."
There is a grace, a charm in the very ideas she utters. Ah, my friends, I know happiness as well as I know sorrow; I know its signs. By the kiss my Modeste gives me I can guess what is passing within her. I know whether she has received what she was looking for, or whether she is uneasy or expectant.
She expected something, she knew not what; she felt that her sad adventure at Monaco could not fail to have its epilogue; but this was one of which she never had dreamed. "Modeste, give me my hat! Get me a carriage! Quick! Oh, my God, it is my fault! I have killed him!"
This curiosity, barely veiled by the commonplace salutations and inquiries of the visitors, would have revealed even to an indifferent person the existence of the domestic plot to which Modeste was expected to fall a victim; but Gobenheim, more than indifferent, noticed nothing, and proceeded to light the candles on the card-table.
"Poor Ernest, who lies there on his bed half-dead with fatigue!" said Canalis, overtaking the girl, who had already started at a gallop. "You are pitiless, mademoiselle. "And should you think well of a woman who could take presents from half the parish?" said Modeste. She was surprised to receive no answer to this inquiry, and attributed the poet's inattention to the noise of the horse's feet.
Just at that moment Modeste appeared, brandishing the umbrella that she carried instead of a stick, in a manner that meant something. It might be bad news, she would know in a moment; anything was better than suspense. She sprang forward. "What did they say, Modeste? Speak! Why have you been such a time?" "Because the servants had something else to do than to attend to me.
About eleven o'clock Butscha, who had come to walk home with Madame Latournelle, whispered in Modeste's ear, "Was I right?" "Alas, yes," she said. "But I hope you have left the door half open, so that he can come back; we agreed upon that, you know." "Anger got the better of me," said Modeste. "Such meanness sent the blood to my head and I told him what I thought of him."
The captains of the Téméraire and Modeste, instead of destroying their ships, anchored as near as they could to the forts Xavier and Lagres, in hopes of enjoying their protection; but in this hope they were disappointed.
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