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Updated: May 2, 2025
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.
The Cure was a simple man, and when Jo urged that if the sick man could get well anywhere in the world it would be at Vadrome Mountain in Chaudiere, the Cure's parochial pride was roused, and he was ready to believe all Jo said. He also saw reason in Jo's request that the village should not be told of the sick man's presence.
The world is free for a man to come and go in, if he keeps the law and does no ill is it not? But, in any case, I know nothing. Since you have said so much, I shall say this, and betray no 'secrets of his breast' that he has received no letter through this office since the day he first came from Vadrome Mountain." The Seigneur smiled. "A wonderful tailor!
He was hugging the chain of denial to his bosom, as though to say, "This way is safety"; he was hiding his face from the beacon-lights of her eyes, which said: "This way is home." Home? Pictures of home, of a home such as Maximilian Cour painted in his music, had passed before him now and then since that great day on Vadrome Mountain.
He dropped the hot iron on the seam, and sniffed with satisfaction. "Who are you?" said the tailor. "A man who wants work. The Cure knows. It's all right. Shall I stay?" The tailor nodded, and sat down with a colour in his face. From the moment there came to the post-office the letter addressed to "The Sick Man at the House of Jo Portugais at Vadrome Mountain," Rosalie Evanturel dreamed dreams.
Of late Jo had come in and gone out of the shop oftener than in the past, had even brought her bunches of mosses for her flower-pots, the first budding lilacs, and some maple-sugar made from the trees on Vadrome Mountain.
The world is free for a man to come and go in, if he keeps the law and does no ill is it not? But, in any case, I know nothing. Since you have said so much, I shall say this, and betray no 'secrets of his breast' that he has received no letter through this office since the day he first came from Vadrome Mountain." The Seigneur smiled. "A wonderful tailor!
It was a gracious memory. "I don't need much, I don't want a great deal," continued Charley when the tailor did not answer, "but I have to pay for my bed and board, and I can't do it on nothing." "How have you done it so far?" peevishly replied the tailor. "By working after hours at carpentering up there" he made a gesture towards Vadrome Mountain.
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.
It had come from old France with Mary, had been merged into English words and English music, and had voyaged to New France. In the walk back from Vadrome Mountain, a change a fleeting change had passed over Charley's mind and mood.
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