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Updated: September 25, 2025
Flynn that there had scarcely been a waking hour when she had not thought of him. "What Portugais knows, he'll not be tellin'," said Mrs. Flynn, after a moment. "An' 'tis no business of ours, is it, darlin'? Shure, there's Jo comin' out of the tailor-shop now!" They both looked out of the window, and saw Jo encounter Filion Lacasse the saddler, and Maximilian Cour the baker.
John Brown had news of importance to give; for, in the stable-yard of the village tavern, he had heard one habitant confide to another that the money for the new church was kept in the safe of the tailor-shop. John Brown was as ready to share in Billy's second enterprise as he had been to incite him to his first crime.
The men raised their bonnets-rouges, the woman bowed low, and the Seigneur entered the post-office door. From the shadows of the office Rosalie had watched the little group before the door of the tailor-shop. She saw the Seigneur coming across the street. Suddenly she flushed deeply, for there came to her mind the song the quack-doctor sang: "Voila, the day has come When Rosette leaves her home!
"Something will come of this, Cure," said the Seigneur. The Cure, whose face had a look of happiness, pressed his arm in reply. Inside the tailor-shop, a voice kept saying, "More airs than Beauty Steele!" Since the evening in the garden when she had been drawn into Charley's arms, and then fled from them in joyful confusion, Rosalie had been in a dream.
Many times she had looked across at the tailor-shop, only seeing Charley once. She did not wish to speak with him now, nor to be near him yet; she wanted this day for herself only.
Misery and anger possessed her, and she fought on with herself through dark hours. Thus five days had gone, until at last a wagon was brought to the door of the tailor-shop, and M'sieu' came out, leaning on the arm of Jo Portugais. There were several people in the street at the time, and they kept whispering that M'sieu' had been at death's door.
At any rate, Ikey toiled and snipped and basted and pressed and patched and sponged all day in the steamy fetor of a tailor-shop. But when work was done Ikey hitched his wagon to such stars as his firmament let shine. It was Saturday night, and the boss laid twelve begrimed and begrudged dollars in his hand.
Reaching them as they mounted, he fired, and brought down his man a shivering quack-doctor, who, like his leader, had seen a sight in the tailor-shop that struck terror to his soul. Two of the others then fired at Jo, who had caught a horse by the head. He fell without a sound, and lay upon his face he did not hear the hoofs of the escaping horses nor any other sound.
He had fallen without a pang beside the quackdoctor, whose medicines would never again quicken a pulse in his own body or any other. Behind, in the village, frightened people flocked about the tailor-shop. Within, Mrs. Flynn and the Notary crudely but tenderly bound up the dreadful wound in Charley's side, while Rosalie pillowed his head on her bosom.
But youth is the only comrade for youth. All else is evasion of life's laws." The Seigneur pressed his arm. "I thought you less worldly-wise than myself; I find you more," he said. "Not worldly-wise. Life is deeper than the world or worldly wisdom. Come, we will both go and see Rosalie." M. Rossignol suddenly stopped at the post-office door, and half turned towards the tailor-shop. "He is young.
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