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Updated: June 26, 2025
She turned to him in sudden alarm; the news was quite unexpected. "My friend my brother," she said impulsively, "do not leave me! Not yet, not yet!" The moment had come. The love pent up in La Pommeraye's heart would be restrained no longer, and burst from him in a torrent of passionate words. She could not stop him now; it was too late.
She noted the fire in La Pommeraye's eye, as he walked up and down her apartment, after giving her the information; and a day or two afterwards when he came to consult her about some business matters, she asked him what his plans were. "I shall seek out Sieur de Roberval," said Charles, "as soon as he arrives, and arrange a meeting between you in whatever way you may direct me. And then "
She prayed that she might die at once. But Heaven had ordered otherwise. Life and hope were to return to her; her imprisonment was nearly over. La Pommeraye's vessel drove before the gale until the high cliffs of St John's harbour loomed up before her.
Marguerite stood awaiting his answer. "Monsieur," she said at last, "will you add one more to my sorrows?" The unutterable sadness of the tone went to La Pommeraye's heart. Impulsively he knelt before her. "Mademoiselle," he said, "if an angel from heaven had appeared to me and asked me to have mercy on that villain, I should have perilled my own soul rather than let him go unpunished. But now "
The delicate fingers lay for a moment in La Pommeraye's mighty grasp, as he raised them reverently to his lips, hardly believing in his own good fortune. They were instantly withdrawn, however, and Marguerite hastened to her uncle's side. De Roberval was only stunned, and might safely be left to Bastienne's skill. It was otherwise with Claude.
But he feared La Pommeraye's sword, and under his doublet he put on a shirt of mail.
He was no longer young; but something of the fierce rage which burned in La Pommeraye's breast burst into flame in his own, as he looked at the worn and saddened face of the once buoyant young adventurer. "God help De Roberval!" he once more thought, "and God speed the arm that strikes the blow!"
As he rolled off this imposing list of titles La Pommeraye's sense of humour got the better of him. The rugged, uninviting land which he knew so well rose vividly before him; and the high-sounding terms which were heaped upon it in no way lessened its ruggedness.
Etienne could traverse their windings as easily as he could the halls of the interior, and he resolved to seek an entrance to La Pommeraye's room, and tell him the whole story. He found the bolt of the door after some groping about, but it had long remained unused, and required many vigorous pulls to make it move.
For the first time, as he heard those two names coupled together, a dawning suspicion of the truth rose in La Pommeraye's mind, only to be swallowed up in the undefined and horrible fear suggested by Cartier's final words. He rose, with a face like death, and laid his hand on Cartier's arm. "Tell me at once what you mean!" he said. "I know nothing accurately.
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