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Updated: June 28, 2025
"How did you hear about it?" asked Mauville, irritably. "Oh, in a roundabout way. Murder will out! And Constance she was so solicitous about Mr. Saint-Prosper, but rather proud, I believe, because he" with a laugh "came off victorious."
"I owe it all to you," she whispered. "Pooh!" he answered. "You stole fire from heaven. I am but a theatrical, bombastic, barnstorming Thespian." "Would you spoil me?" she interrupted, tenderly. "You are your mother over again, my dear! If she were only here now! But where is Saint-Prosper? He has not yet congratulated you? He, our good genius, whose generosity has made all this possible!"
While motionless the rider yet sat in his saddle, an invisible hand grasped the reins. "Shall I put up your horse?" said a small voice, and the soldier quickly dismounted, the animal vanishing with the speaker, as Saint-Prosper entered the inn.
The platform of the local Demosthenes stood in a corner near the street. "'Woe to thee, O Moab! Thou art undone, O people of Chemosh, if you light not the torch of equal rights!" exclaimed the platform patterer as Saint-Prosper drew near. "Awake, sons of the free soil! Now is the time to make a stand!
Mauville abruptly wheeled; his face, dark and sinister, was lighted with envenomed malignity; an unnaturally clear perception replaced the stupor of his brain, and, bending toward Saint-Prosper, his eye rested upon him with such rancor and malevolence the soldier involuntarily drew away. But one word fell from the land baron's lips, low, vibrating, full of inexpressible bitterness. "Traitor!"
"Did you ever see 'The School for Scandal'?" asked the smithy's good wife. "Once," confessed the town official's faded consort, her worn face lighting dreamily. "It was on our wedding trip to New York. Silas warn't so strict then." Amid chit-chat, so diverting, Saint-Prosper finished "posting" the town.
He groped helplessly with his hand. "Feel in my burnoose, Ernest. A bag around my neck open it!" Saint-Prosper thrust his hand within the coat, shuddering at the contact with the ebbing life's blood, and drew forth a leather bag which he placed in the other's trembling fingers.
"Colonel Saint-Prosper?" said the lawyer, as he obeyed the voice within and entered the room, where a tall young man in civilian attire was engaged in packing a small trunk. "One moment, pray let me catch my breath. That lad accomplished the ascent two steps at a time, and, I fear, the spectacle stimulated me to unusual expedition.
In his exasperation and disappointment over his failure, Mauville was scarcely conscious of his wound. "I tell you it is nothing," he repeated. "What do you say, Mr. Saint-Prosper?" asked the count. "I am satisfied," returned the young man, coldly. "But I'm not!" reiterated the patroon, restraining himself with difficulty. "It was understood we should continue until both were willing to stop!"
The officer hesitated: "As to that " he began. "It is a reasonable request," said Saint-Prosper, in a low tone.
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