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Updated: August 26, 2024
He hesitated, and at last he answered, making a violent effort, "Bois Bois Boiscoran!" The name was received with murmurs of indignation and incredulous laughter. There was not a shadow of doubt or of suspicion. The peasants said, "M. de Boiscoran an incendiary! Who does he think will believe that story?" "It is absurd!" said Count Claudieuse. "Nonsense!" repeated the mayor and his friend. Dr.
If you know every thing so perfectly well, I wish you would tell me what could have been the motive for the crime, for, after all, we do not run the risk of losing our head without some very powerful and tangible purpose. Where was Jacques's interest? You will tell me he hated Count Claudieuse. But is that an answer. Come, go for a moment to your own conscience. But stop! No one likes to do that."
"We shall go on, therefore," he began, "as if there was no such person as the Countess Claudieuse. We know nothing of her. We shall say nothing of the meeting at Valpinson, nor of the burned letters." "That is settled." "That being so, we must next look, not for the manner in which we spent our time, but for our purpose in going out the evening of the crime. Ah!
Then he had to give directions to have the wounded men brought home; and, after that, he had gone out in search of a house for Count Claudieuse and his wife, which had given him much trouble. Finally, a large part of the afternoon had been taken up by an angry discussion with Dr. Seignebos.
"I loved the Countess Claudieuse, and she loved me." "Adultery is a crime, Jacques." "A crime? Magloire said the same thing. But, father, do you really think so? Then it is a crime which has nothing appalling about it, to which every thing invites and encourages, of which everybody boasts, and at which the world smiles.
With trembling hands the old marquis unfolded the paper, and read, "Terrible misfortune! Master Jacques accused of having set the chateau at Valpinson on fire, and murdered Count Claudieuse. Terrible evidence against him. When examined, hardly any defence. Just arrested and carried to jail. In despair. What must I do?"
"But that was nothing at all," said the vagrant. "While M. Jacques and the countess were quarrelling in this way, I saw the door of the parlor suddenly open as if by itself, and a phantom appear in it, dressed in a funeral pall. It was Count Claudieuse himself. His face looked terrible; and he had a revolver in his hand.
Jacques was kneeling at her feet, overcome with gratitude and love. The next day the funeral of Count Claudieuse took place. His youngest daughter was buried at the same time; and in the evening the Countess left Sauveterre, to make her home henceforth with her father in Paris.
Count Claudieuse was getting rather better. The agent in Jersey had telegraphed that he was on Suky's track; that he would certainly catch her, but that he could not say when. Michael, finally, had in vain searched the whole district, and been all over Oleron; no one had been able to give him any news of Trumence.
Mayor think it natural that the Countess Claudieuse, this incomparable mother in his estimation, should forget her children in the height of the fire?" "What! The poor woman is called out by the discharge of fire-arms; she sees her house on fire; she stumbles over the lifeless body of her husband: and you blame her for not having preserved all her presence of mind."
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