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Updated: May 5, 2025
The doctor had been like Bernard; he never went to mass or to confession; but he was so good, so charitable, so compassionate to the suffering. This was the cause of the Cure's great anxiety, of his great solicitude. His friend Reynaud, where was he? Where was he?
There was a short moment of trouble and hesitation. "Forward! forward!" shouted the officers. The men passed over the body of their comrade, and under a hail of bullets entered the town. Dr. Reynaud and the Abbe Constantin marched with the troops; they stopped by the wounded man; the blood was rushing in floods from his mouth. "There is nothing to be done," said the doctor.
"Yes; and that is why I am so happy. With me it is a fixed idea that I must adore the man who will be my husband. Well! I don't say that I adore Jean, no, not yet; but still it is beginning, Susie, and it is beginning so sweetly." "Bettina, it really makes me uneasy to see you in this state of excitement. I do not deny that Monsieur Reynaud is much attached to you "
Scott and Bettina stopped, struck with this inscription carved on the stone: "Here lies Dr. Marcel Reynaud, Surgeon-Major of the Souvigny Mobiles; killed January 8, 1871, at the Battle of Villersexel. Pray for him." When they had read it, the Cure, pointing to Jean, said: "It was his father!"
The Cure, in spite of the resistance of Jean, was about to launch into a panegyric on his godson, when Bettina, interposing, said: "It is unnecessary, Monsieur le Cure, do not say anything, we know already all that you would tell us, we have been so indiscreet as to make inquiries about Monsieur oh, I was just going to say Monsieur Jean about Monsieur Reynaud.
They exchanged many tender embraces; then, Richard, addressing his sister-in-law, said, laughingly: "Well, when is the wedding to be?" "What wedding?" "Yours." "My wedding?" "Yes, certainly." "And to whom am I about to be married?" "To Monsieur Jean Reynaud." "Ah! Susie has written to you?" "Susie? Not at all. Susie has not said a word. It is you, Bettina, who have written to me.
"Richard, Susie has told you about Monsieur Reynaud." "Yes, and she has told me that there is no man of whom she has a higher opinion, but " "But she has told you that for me it would be a rather quiet, rather commonplace marriage. Oh, naughty sister! Will you believe it, Richard, that I can not get this fear out of her head?
In 1846, when the Abbe' Constantin took possession of his little living, the grandfather of Jean was residing in a pleasant cottage on the road to Souvigny, between the picturesque old castles of Longueval and Lavardens. Marcel, the son of that Dr. Reynaud, was finishing his medical studies in Paris. He possessed great industry, and an elevation of sentiment and mind extremely rare.
"Then you are not going back to Longueval for ten days?" "Oh, I shall go back to-day at four o'clock. But I don't count, you know. Jean Reynaud, the Cure's godson. That is why I have penetrated so easily into the confidence of these two charming women. I have presented myself under the patronage and with the guarantee of the Church.
Jean Reynaud did better than keep his place; the pass-list showed his name seventh, but instead of entering 'l'Ecole des Ponts et Chaussees', he entered the military college at Fontainebleau in 1878. He was then just twenty-one; he was of age, master of his fortune, and the first act of the new administration was a great, a very great piece of extravagance.
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