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All I can say of him is that while his wife, Anne Rondeau, was living, he married another woman, and the night of the marriage before sitting down to supper, he went out a little space. During the interval between that and his coming in, it was judged from the circumstances that I shall mention hereafter, that he cut the throat of the poor woman who was his first wife, with a razor.
"I am fine woods-boss for somebody," he suggested hopefully. "You think Miss Sumner dislikes you then, Rondeau?" "I don' theenk. I know." He sighed; his huge body seemed to droop. "I am out of zee good luck now," he murmured bitterly. "Everybody, she hate Jules Rondeau.
So saying, they turned together into the large terraced garden. While they were engaged in walking over the handsome grounds which surrounded "The Indian Nest," Rondeau, who had accompanied his master, was differently occupied.
When Bryce had gone, the Colonel hurriedly called his logging-camp on the telephone and asked for Jules Rondeau, only to be informed, by the timekeeper who answered the telephone, that Rondeau was up in the green timber with the choppers and could not be gotten to the telephone in less than two hours. "Do not send for him, then," Pennington commanded.
Citizen Rondeau, whose business it was to look after the creature comforts of deputy Heriot, was standing in the antichambre facing the two visitors whom he had just introduced into his master's apartments, and idly turning a couple of gold coins over and over between his grimy fingers.
The Count Morano, who sat next to Emily, and who had been observing her for some time in silence, snatched up a lute, and struck the chords with the finger of harmony herself, while his voice, a fine tenor, accompanied them in a rondeau full of tender sadness.
To complete his withdrawal from active service, the last whiff of breath had been driven from his lungs; and for the space of a minute, during which Jules Rondeau lay heavily across his midriff, the Colonel was quite unable to get it back. Pale, gasping, and jarred from soul to suspenders, he was merely aware that something unexpected and disconcerting had occurred.
"I hain’t got nothin’ else, Miss Leffie Lacey, if you please," said Rondeau, snapping his fingers in her face, and giving Aunt Dilsey’s elbow a slight jostle, just enough to spill the oil, with which she was filling a lamp. "Rondeau, I ’clar’ for’t," said Aunt Dilsey, setting down her oil can. "If marster don’t crack your head, my old man Claib shall, if he ever gits up agin.
"Lord, Dilsey, I’d like to have seen you there; but then there wouldn’t have been room for anybody else, for the hall wouldn’t more than hold you." Here the conversation ended, but for a long time Rondeau carried on his arm the marks of Aunt Dilsey’s finger and thumb. From the grassy hillside and bright green plains of Kentucky the frosts of winter were gone.
"But," said she, "after I interceded awhile for you, he said he would forgive you on condition that you were never guilty of the like again, and never mention the subject to him in any way, as it makes him angry to talk about it." To both these conditions Rondeau readily agreed, and Julia left him, thinking she was safe in that quarter. Several days after, Mrs.
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