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Updated: June 23, 2025
"We leave for England to-day", she said curtly. "For England?" gasped the worthy old soul, who was feeling very happy and comfortable in this hospitable house, and was loth to leave it. "So soon?" "Why, yes; we had talked of it for some time. We cannot remain here always. My cousins De Crecy are there, and my aunt De Coudremont. We shall be among friends, Petronelle, if we ever get there."
She turned perhaps a trifle paler thant she had been hitherto, and her eyes roamed round the room like those of a trapped hare seeking to escape. "You misunderstand me, Citoyen Deroulede," she said at last hurriedly. "You have all been kind very kind but Petronelle and I can no longer trespass on your hospitality. We have friends in England, and many enemies here..."
All Deroulede could do was to convey Petronelle to the old abode, which Juliette had quitted in order to come to him, and which had never been formally given up. The worthy soul, calmed and refreshed, deluded herself into the idea that she was waiting for the return of her young mistress, and became quite cheerful at sight of the familiar room.
Petronelle, 'Only, de grace, tell us where we are, and who this seigneur is, and what he wants with us poor women. 'This is the Castle of Balchenburg, was the reply; 'the seigneur is the Baron thereof. For the next' she shrugged her shoulders 'it must be one of Baron Rudiger's ventures. But I must go and fetch the ladies some supper. Ah! the demoiselle surely needs it.
"No no darling, I cannot I cannot " moaned Petronelle, amidst a renewed shower of sobs. Juliette's entire soul a child's soul it was rose in revolt at thought of what was before her. She felt angered with God for having put such a thing upon her. What right had He to demand a girl of her years to endure so much mental agony? To lose her brother, and to witness her fathers's grief!
Juliette, seeing that Petronelle had gone, hastily turned over the few half burnt fragments of paper that were left. In none of them had the writing remained legible. All that was compromising to Deroulede was effectually reduced to dust.
Petronelle is with them and will watch over them; and she knows the ways of the country, and how to deal with these robbers, whoever they may be. She will have a care of them.
A moment later old Petronelle, who had been Juliette's nurse, and was now her devoted slave, came to her, all bathed in tears. She had just heard the news, and she could scarcely speak, but she folded the young girl, her dear pet lamb, in her arms, and rocking herself to and fro she sobbed and eased her aching, motherly heart. But Juliette did not cry. It was all so sudden, so awful.
Where were they going? No one deigned to ask except Madame de Ste. Petronelle, and her guard only grunted, 'Nicht verstand, or something equivalent.
It was well to be able to lay her down at all, and old Barbe was not only ready and pitying, but spoke French. She had some wine ready, and had evidently done her best in the brief warning to prepare a bed. The tone of her words convinced Madame de Ste. Petronelle that at any rate she was no enemy.
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