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Updated: May 15, 2025
"I told you I don't want anything expensive," retorted the farmer angrily. "Oh, that's all right, Sir; I'll tell him so, Sir," said the workman, frightened at Mr. Rougeant's sour tone. "Well, you will fetch them this evening and be careful to tell him what I require; a good and inexpensive job, or I won't pay him."
She searched out the old man, and, having found him, she said to him: "Did you see Mr. Mathers yesterday evening?" "Yes, Miss," he answered, taking care to speak in his native tongue this time; "I saw him. He thanked me and asked a few questions about your health and Mr. Rougeant's foot." "I am very much obliged to you," said Adèle, "and now, you must come and talk to my father.
The young man was in the shade, while the moon shone fully on Mr. Rougeant's face. The latter looked straight at the crouching figure, then, suddenly quickening his pace, he went towards the house. This man was a coward.
He saw this, so did his wife, but neither seemed to care much; they were buoyed up by a false hope, always waiting for something unexpected to turn up, which would rescue them from this abyss. Mrs. Soher was Mr. Rougeant's sister. They were the only children of the late Charles Rougeant, of "Les Marches."
Tom did not heed their talk, but directed his steps towards uncle Rougeant's farm-house. He opened the door, walked straight in, and seated himself in a chair near the long bare table, without saying a word to his uncle. The latter was in a dreadful state of mental excitement.
Spoilt child; he little knew the terrible death that awaited him. The first Sunday after Mr. Rougeant's recovery, Adèle said she intended to go to church. The farmer's eyes flickered more than usual. "I think I shall accompany you," he said. His daughter started. What could he mean? He had not been to church these last three years or more; besides, he had not a decent suit of clothes to put on.
He had some business to settle with his carpenter, who lived near "Woodlands." Presently, a man who had dogged his steps for some time, exclaimed: "It's you, Mr. Mathers, I thought it was." Turning round, Frank recognised Jacques, Mr. Rougeant's workman. He thought his heart had stopped beating, so sudden was the thrill of satisfaction that shook its tendrils.
"I thought we had been out only about one hour," said Adèle as Frank returned his watch to his fob. "Love takes no account of time," he said. "Now, let us talk business. I profess to be a business man you know." They talked about the obstacles to be vanquished, of Mr. Rougeant's wrath, of Tom Soher's jealousy. "Be of good cheer. Amor vincit omnia," were Frank's last words to her that evening.
For they had had the impudence to tell him at the solicitor's office that he could not make a will giving his property to others; he could not disinherit his daughter. All this vexed him. He sank on the jonquière exclaiming "Alas!" Mr. Rougeant's condition continued to aggravate. The thought of death struck his heart with terror. Behind him, he left a life of selfishness and bigotry.
She did not stop to think that he would perhaps pass haughtily by her. Love is blind. Like the two gentlemen who circumnavigated the globe, the two young people met. Frank inquired after Mr. Rougeant's health, and made a few remarks about the exhibition. He always expected to see her intended appear on the scene. Finally, he ventured to ask: "Are you quite alone?" "Yes, quite," she answered.
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