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Secure of privacy Gaston's decorum relaxed a trifle, for it was clear to him that confidences must be at least tacitly exchanged: M'sieur le captaine could not hope to keep him in the dark, there never was an elopement yet of which valet and lady's maid were not cognizant. Like Catherine, "You wish I pack for you, Sare?" he asked in his lively imperfect English.
Fauvel sat, so as to speak in a very low tone, as if almost afraid to hear his own voice. "As I told you, madame, Gaston is dead; and it was I who closed his eyes, and received his last wishes. Do you understand?" The poor woman understood only too well, but was racking her brain to discover what could be the purpose of this fatal visit. Perhaps it was only to claim Gaston's jewels.
And after an hour spent in paradise, Francezka and Gaston walked hand in hand to the château, the servants and dependents were summoned, and Francezka, kneeling among them, with her hand on Gaston's shoulder, humbly gave thanks to God for having restored her best beloved to her. The news spread like wildfire, and roused the entire country.
This was the secret which Valentine had refused to reveal to Gaston, because she feared that he would refuse to leave her if he knew it; and she wished him to escape at any price of suffering to herself. Even now she did not regret having followed the dictates of duty, and remained at home. The only thought which distressed her was Gaston's danger. Had he succeeded in embarking?
"Gone! gone! gone!" cried Roger, in a strange and despairing voice. "Carried off by his bitterest foes! Gone where we shall never see him more!" There was something in the aspect of the youth and in his lamentable words that sent an unwonted shiver through Gaston's frame; but he was quick to recover himself, and answered hastily: "Boy, thou art distraught! Tell me where my brother has gone.
After all, the decision against him in the Chamber is very doubtful, whereas Monsieur Gaston's madness, if mentioned publicly, would never be forgotten." "But I have not told you the worst so far as I am concerned," said Madame de l'Estorade. "Just before dinner my husband imparted to me an absolutely Satanic desire of his order, I might call it." "What was it?" asked Madame de Camps, anxiously.
An ambiguity of motive and influence, a confusion of spirit amounting, as we approach the centre of action, to physical madness, encompasses those who are formally responsible for things; and the mist around that great crime, or great "accident," in which the gala weather of Gaston's coming to Paris broke up, leaving a sullenness behind it to remain for a generation, has never been penetrated.
The tree swayed and cracked fearfully under Gaston's weight, as he stood on the extreme end, and looked around upon his pursuers; there were fifteen of them, some on the right, some on the left, all uttering cries of joy. "Do you surrender?" called out the corporal. Gaston did not answer; he was weighing his chances.
Espère, il reviendra! which particularly applied to Francezka and Gaston. I saw the eyes of Francezka and Gaston meet when this strain was sweetly played; they sat, after the French custom, opposite each other in the middle of the long table. Francezka's eyes were those of an angel, and Gaston's were so full of pride, of love, of triumph, that they shone like stars.
In that election in December, 1872, for the year 1873 his opponent, Hon. Henry L. Pierce, was declared elected Mayor by only seventy-nine plurality. This fact indicates Mr. Gaston's popularity, as General Grant had carried Boston the year previous by about 5,500 majority.
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