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Updated: June 11, 2025
Gradually Sieur Sarpy, yielding to the influence of heat and solitude, dropped his book upon his knee, and closed his eyes for a brief respite of repose. But for the outside sounds of nature and an occasional gust in the fire place, everything within that room was as silent as the grave.
"He would tell us everything. I wonder he is not here already." "His absence is an additional cause for fear," replied Sieur Sarpy in a low voice. "Still, I do not despair. He may arrive before the night is over." "If he is alive." "What, papa? You do not suppose that Batoche took part in the attack?" "I do. I am sure he never quitted the side of Cary Singleton." "I did not think of that. Alas!
The snow-storm continued in unabated violence, and the weather was so gray that the lines of earth and sky were blended and utterly undistinguishable. A little after the hour of noon, Zulma Sarpy knelt in the little church of Pointe-aux-Trembles. Beside her there were only a few worshippers some old men mumbling their rosaries, and some women crouched on their heels before the shrine.
When, at the door of the Sarpy mansion, he heard the words from Zulma's lips, "Pauline is dying," he sprang into his saddle and rode at full speed to headquarters, where he met Batoche, whom he instructed to use every means to communicate directly with M. Belmont. Through the old man he heard daily of the phases of the disease.
Sieur Sarpy made a solemn gesture of deprecation. "Are you serious, Batoche?" he asked. "Serious?" said the old man with that wild strange look characteristic of his preternatural moods. "Bouchette is safe." "Not from me." "He is well guarded." "I will break through any guard." "But you cannot enter the town." "I can enter whenever I like." "When inside, you will not be able to come out."
I admire his generosity and magnanimity, and I admire the wonderful instinct of Zulma Sarpy who gauged him so well that she wrung his liberation from me."
It is, therefore, no wonder that she, as well as Cary, was vexed at Batoche for not revealing the place of the sick girl's retreat. During three whole days, the old man was inexorable. Neither the young woman's coaxing, nor the soldier's serious displeasure could move him. His sole answer was: "Pauline will see no one but Mademoiselle Sarpy, and that only later."
A great fire glowed in front of them, and at their side was a little table bearing cakes and wine. Cary sat at one angle of the chimney, Sieur Sarpy at the other, and Zulma occupied a low chair in the apex of the semi-circle.
She remained thus until nearly the supper hour, and after the shadows of evening had enveloped her. When Sieur Sarpy met his daughter at the table, he divined at once that something was wrong. He himself had heard nothing.
Notwithstanding that his periodical visits to the Sarpy mansion had been interrupted during the American occupation of Pointe-aux-Trembles, he knew in a general way that Zulma had become acquainted with one or the other of the officers, which was the main reason why he judged that the early communication of the war news from his lips would be particularly interesting to Sieur Sarpy and his daughter, but he had no suspicion that Zulma's feelings went further, and had thus no idea of the effect which his words produced upon her.
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