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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Strange, I did not suspect something of the truth at the time," he concluded, "for his manner was certainly unusual." A perplexed light shone in the girl's eyes; she clasped and unclasped her hands quickly, turning to the lawyer. "Their quarrel was only a political difference?" she asked at length. "Yes," said the other, slowly. "Saint-Prosper refused to support the fugitive king.
His assailant quickly grasped the weapon, presenting it to the breast of the surprised land-owner, who looked, not into the face of an unknown anti-renter, but into the stern, familiar countenance of Saint-Prosper. The afternoon following the soldier's departure from the patroon village went by all too slowly, his jaded horse's feet as heavy as the leaden moments.
"No; I am not wounded." "The general directs you to take this message to the commanding general," continued the little aide. "I believe I may congratulate you, sir, for you will have the honor of bearing the news of the victory." He handed Saint-Prosper a sealed message. "It's been a glorious day, sir, but" gazing carelessly around him "has cost many a brave life!"
Besides, certain words of his caller concerning Saint-Prosper had stimulated his curiosity, and, in casting about for a way to confirm his suspicions, he had suddenly determined in what wise to proceed.
We attorneys are always getting our fingers in every one's affairs! I am acquainted with you, as it were, from the cradle to the present!" "I am unexpectedly honored!" remarked the listener, satirically. "First, I knew you through the Marquis de Ligne." Saint-Prosper started and regarded his visitor more closely.
An exclamation fell from the soldier's lips. The patroon! his ill-disguised admiration for the actress! his abrupt reappearance the night of the temperance drama! Any uncertainty Saint-Prosper might have felt regarding the identity of him he sought, or the reason for that day's work, now became compelling certitude. But for the tenants, he might have ridden by the old patroon house.
For answer Saint-Prosper pointed to the window. "Then you let him " "We're wasting time," impatiently shouted the barn-burner who had disclaimed the soldier's identity to the patroon. "Come!" With an oath. "Do you want to lose him after all? He can't be far away. And this one, damn him! isn't our man!"
Himself unseen, Saint-Prosper bent his eyes upon the figure of the young girl, shadowy but obvious in the reflected light of the bright constellations. Even as he gazed, her hand removed the mask, revealing the face he knew so well.
Involuntarily he put out his arm which girded a slender waist; Faith drove simpering by; the crowd melted like a receding wave, and the lady extricated herself, breathless as one of the maids in Lorenzo de Medici's Songs of the Carnival. "How awkward!" she murmured. "How " The sentence remained unfinished and an exclamation, "Mr. Saint-Prosper!" punctuated a gleam of recognition.
"One made before he was aware of your existence, Miss Carew, in favor of his ward, Ernest Saint-Prosper." "Ernest Saint-Prosper!" Constance's cheeks flamed crimson, and her quick start of surprise did not escape the observant lawyer. Barnes, too, looked amazed over this unexpected intelligence. "Saint-Prosper was the marquis' ward?" he cried.
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