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Updated: May 19, 2025
One entrance, on the side of which he now stood, was by a door. He went towards it. The door was ajar. He entered the garden. Then, and only then, did he begin to reason. What if someone found him there? They would take him for a thief. "I must go," he said to himself; "if Mr. Rougeant found me here, there would be a fine row."
When she went out, she could listen with more than ordinary delight to the songs of the birds. Some were singing with everchanging variety, others were somewhat more laboriously endeavouring to imitate the whistle of the farmer-boys. Adèle Rougeant sympathized with birds; she felt attracted towards them, for she too was a bird.
If only I could succeed in securing enough money to put me out of the danger of want, I should be satisfied." Since his adventure in the garden, he had not dared to go again near "Les Marches." He thought that Mr. Rougeant had perhaps recognised him, but, fortunately for him, Adèle's father had failed to discern his crouching figure.
He knew full well that the sight of the house in which he had first known love, would arouse in him sentiments of jealousy and grief; so he satisfied himself with continuing to work at the reformation of his character. Each victory which he achieved made him feel stronger and wiser, and every day added to his success. Let us return to Adèle Rougeant.
"Miss Rougeant, let me see oh yes, I knew her once, but I am afraid I should not recognise her now, she must be a fine lady by this time." "Fine; she's simply charming." "I should think so; I don't doubt you at all, Mr. Soher." "There is a young man who is paying his attentions to her." "He is very fortunate." "That does not suit me. I intended to marry her." "You! her cousin." "Why not?"
Rougeant, and he was about to disappear when Lizette, feeling that she was not required any more, and moved to the quick, turned towards her master. "I can go now," she said. "Well, go; so much the better." That same evening, Maît. Adèle wept. Her father silenced her with a frown. "You will commence school on Tuesday next," he said.
He would have had to pay only one penny a week at the parish school, whereas he now paid five pence. Soon, he would have to disburse from fifty to sixty pounds a year for Adèle's sake. "What extravagance," he muttered between his teeth. But he dared not go against his promises to his dying wife. Mr. Rougeant was superstitious.
They waited. Not a breath of wind disturbed the grass or brambles, not a word was exchanged between the men on the watch. The air was stiff, but they felt it not. The cider which they had drunk kept them warm. Not one of them knew exactly how they were to operate. Tom counted on his uncle and Mr. Rougeant thought he would act according to circumstances.
Perhaps it was not quite correct, but there was a great deal of truth in it. Tom Soher was not to die this time. The crisis passed. He rallied almost as rapidly as he had lost strength. Mr. Rougeant visited him daily. His daughter listened to the news of Tom's recovery, with attention. The farmer was pleased. "She takes more interest in him than she cares to show;" he said to himself.
Without, during those three months, nothing was heard but the noise of the carpenter's hammers and the click of the glazier's tools. Mr. Rougeant was as completely transformed as his farm. He looked upon the whole with such an air of complacency that the neighbours remarked: "He is in his second infancy." In one of the numerous public-houses in the town of St.
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