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Updated: June 6, 2025
"She is a Comtesse de Vandieres; she is said to be mad; but as she has only been here for two months, I cannot vouch for the truth of all this hearsay talk." M. d'Albon thanked M. and Mme. de Grandville, and they set out for Cassan. "It is she!" cried Philip, coming to himself. "She? who?" asked d'Albon. "Stephanie.... Ah! dead and yet living still; still alive, but her mind is gone!
The colonel shuddered, but he began to smile again, with a slight involuntary gesture of incredulity. Nobody ventured to oppose his plans, and a few hours later he had taken up his abode in the old priory, to be near the doctor and the Comtesse de Vandieres. "Where is she?" he cried at once. "Hush!" answered M. Fanjat, Stephanie's uncle. "She is sleeping. Stay; here she is."
Madame de Vandieres gave a cry, which went to all hearts, and threw herself before the colonel, whose heart beat wildly. She seemed to gather herself together, and, at first, looked vaguely at the singular scene.
Leave that old fossil, who'll be dead by to-morrow." "Make haste!" cried the voice of all, as one man. "Come, major, they are grumbling, and they have a right to do so." The Comte de Vandieres threw off his wrappings and showed himself in his general's uniform. "Let us save the count," said Philippe. Stephanie pressed his hand, and throwing herself on his breast, she clasped him tightly.
At this moment the line of the American sector, from right to left, began at Port-sur-Seille, thence across the Moselle to Vandieres and through the Woevre to Bezonvaux, in the foothills of the Meuse, thence along to the foothills and through the northern edge of the Woevre forests to the Meuse at Mouzay, thence along the Meuse connecting with the French under Sedan.
He will soon come to you." "Then it was really she!" cried de Sucy at d'Albon's first words. "Ah! I still doubted it," he added, a few tears falling from his eyes, which were habitually stern. "Yes, it is the Comtesse de Vandieres," replied the marquis. The colonel rose abruptly from his bed and began to dress. "Philippe!" cried his friend, "are you mad?"
All the men seated around the fire had shared his blankets, cushions, pelisses, robes, also the clothing of the Comte and Comtesse de Vandieres and his own. Philippe looked about him to see if there was anything left in or near the vehicle that was worth saving. By the light of the flames he saw gold and diamonds and plate scattered everywhere, no one having thought it worth his while to take any.
The Comte and Comtesse de Vandieres owed their lives to their carriage, behind which Philippe forced them, using it as a breastwork. As for the major and the grenadier, they found their safety in their strength. They killed to escape being killed.
"My friend is expecting me; you will see him here before long." "Then it is Stephanie herself?" cried Sucy when the Marquis had spoken the first few words. "Ah! until now I did not feel sure!" he added. Tears filled the dark eyes that were wont to wear a stern expression. "Yes; she is the Comtesse de Vandieres," his friend replied. The colonel started up, and hurriedly began to dress.
Monsieur de Sucy took care to keep secret the motive for this tragic imitation, which was talked of in several Parisian circles as a proof of insanity. Early in January, 1820, the colonel drove in a carriage, the very counterpart of the one in which he had driven the Comte and Comtesse de Vandieres from Moscow to Studzianka.
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