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The look of the girl's face, at once delicate and rosy with health, almost put the question of the letter out of his mind for an instant. Her dark eyes met his as he came forward with outstretched hand. "This is addressed, as you will see, 'To the Sick Man at the House of Jo Portugais, at Vadrome Mountain. Are you that person, Monsieur?" she asked.
Her father had been taken seriously ill the day after the critical episode in the but at Vadrome Mountain, and she had gone with him to the hospital at Quebec, for an operation. The Abbe Rossignol had undertaken to see them safely to the hospital, and Jo Portugais, at his own request, was permitted to go in attendance upon M. Evanturel.
At last he said: 'And what part played you in that siege, Garoche? Garoche looked troubled, but answered: 'It was in the way of duty, M'sieu' le Baron I with five others captured the relief-party sent from your cousin the Seigneur of Vadrome. 'Oh, said the Baron, looking sharp, 'you were in that, were you?
Walking slowly, head bent, eyes unseeing, Charley was on his way to Vadrome Mountain, with the knowledge that Jo Portugais had returned. The hunger for companionship was on him: to touch some mind that could understand the deep loneliness which had settled on him since that scene in the postoffice. It was the loneliness of a new and great separation. He had wakened to it to-day.
"You'd be a better baker if you fiddled less," said Madame Dauphin, annoyed at being dropped out of the conversation. "The soul must be fed, Madame," rejoined the baker, with asperity. "Where is the tailor now?" said the Seigneur shortly. "At Portugais's on Vadrome Mountain. They say he looked like a ghost when he went.
Even that day at Vadrome Mountain she had not thought he meant love, when he had said to her that he would remember to the last. When he had said that he would die for love's sake, he had not meant her, but others some one else whom he would save by his death.
After, a perfect calm, a shining sun, and a sweet smell over all the land, which had thirstily drunk the battering showers. In the house on Vadrome Mountain the tailor of Chaudiere had watched the storm with sympathetic interest. It was in accord with his own feelings.
"How manny times have ye seen him?" "Only once;" answered Rosalie truthfully. She did not, however, tell Mrs. Flynn that she had thrice walked nearly to Vadrome Mountain in the hope of seeing him again; and that she had gone to her favourite resort, the Rest of the Flax-Beaters, lying in the way of the riverpath from Vadrome Mountain, on the chance of his passing. She did not tell Mrs.
From the moment he had waked from a long seven months' sleep in the hut on Vadrome Mountain, new deep feelings had come to him as he faced problems of life. Fighting had begun from that hour a fighting which was putting his nature through bitter mortal exercises, yet, too, giving him a sense of being he had never known.
The time had passed when it could be of any use. It passed that day in the hut on Vadrome Mountain when she said that if he died, she would die with him "Where you are going you will be alone. There will be no one to care for you, no one but me." Last night it passed for ever.
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