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Updated: June 2, 2025
She it was who laughed in the gallery of the court-room the day that Joseph Nadeau was acquitted. It had pained and shocked the Cure more than any he had ever heard, but he urged for her no penalty as Portugais had set for himself with the austere approval of the Abbe.
It was Jo Portugais, who had seen him coming, and had waited for him. He had heard Charley's words. "Do you call me an impasse, M'sieu'?" Charley grasped Portugais' hand. "What has happened, M'sieu'?" Jo asked anxiously. There was a brief silence, and then Charley told him of the events of the morning. "You know of the mark-here?" he asked, touching his breast. Jo nodded.
"See, see, Portugais," he said, "our little cross again!" Jo nodded. "So it seems, Monsieur," he said. At that instant he saw a hood lying on the ground, and as the Cure held up the lantern, peering at the little cross, he hastily picked it up and thrust it inside his coat. "Strange very strange!" said the Cure. "It must have been done while we were inside. It was not there when we entered."
As his hand wandered over the body towards the heart, it touched something that rattled against a button. He picked it up mechanically and held it to the light. It was an eye-glass. "My God!" said Jo Portugais, and peered into the man's face. "It's him." Then he remembered the last words the man had spoken to him "Get out of my sight. You're as guilty as hell!"
I saw him at Jo Portugais' a fortnight ago." "Aisy, aisy, darlin'. At Jo Portugais' that's a quare place for a stranger. 'Tis not wid Jo's introducshun I'd be comin' to Chaudiere." "He comes with the Cure's introduction." "An' how d'ye know that, darlin'?" "The Curb was at Jo Portugais' with monsieur when I went there." "You wint there!" "To take him a letter the stranger."
He did not turn round but looked at her in the mirror, as though it were the last look he might give on earth. He could hear her voice speaking to the dogs: "Ah, my friends, ah, my dears! I know you every one. Jo Portugais is here. I know your bark, you, Harpy, and you, Lazybones, and you, Cloud and London! I know you every one. I heard you as I came from Mass, beauty dears.
In the first place, the Cure seemed satisfied; secondly, he minded his own business. Also, he was working for Louis Trudel for nothing. These things Jo Portugais diligently impressed on the minds of all who would listen.
The look of the girl's face, at once delicate and rosy with health, almost put the question of the letter out of his mind for an instant. Her dark eyes met his as he came forward with outstretched hand. "This is addressed, as you will see, 'To the Sick Man at the House of Jo Portugais, at Vadrome Mountain. Are you that person, Monsieur?" she asked.
"Courage, Monsieur!" he said to Charley, and bowed himself out. Jo Portugais followed. One officer took his place at the front door and the other at the back door, outside. The Abby, by himself, took to walking backward and forward under the trees, buried in gloomy reflection. Jo Portugais caught his sleeve. "Come with me for a moment, M'sieu'," he said. "It is important." The Abby followed him.
Rosalie carried to the hospital that afternoon a lighter heart than she had known for many a day. The sight of Jo Portugais' dogs had roused her out of the apathy which had been growing on her in this patient but hopeless watching beside her father. She had always a smile and a cheerful word for the poor man.
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