Belle-Rose — page 136: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

| past. The hour for departure has come,’’ A WOMAN'S HAND. 125 come to my affairs presently. I believe that the lady did not hear me, for she said: ‘But what risk does he run?’ ‘The risk of being shot, that is all.’ She grew pale. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, ‘they still shoot people, then?’ ‘They cer- tainly do.’ ‘What shall we do, then? Supposing I prevent his trial?’ ‘Before that order could arrive, he will be con- demned.’ ‘My God! advice! advice! but I, too, have come in his interest!’ ‘Well, madame, what we need is his par- don.’ ‘His pardon! I will obtain it, but who will carry — itto him?’ ‘I will; unless Il am killed on the road, I will arrive in time to save him.’ ‘Wait for me here—TI shall return presently,’ and she disappeared through the door which the usher had just opened. I remained alone for some minutes, which appeared a century tome. A thou- sand depressing reflections saddened my mind. Had this unknown woman the power which I supposed she pos. sessed? was the interest which she affected real? Pres- ently the door opens and the lady appears. IJ saw nothing this time except the parchment which she held in the tips of her snowy fingers. ‘Hold,’ she said to me, ‘here is the royal seal—you have his life in your hand. Go!’ Her countenance was radiant. I bowed over her hand and kissed it. ‘Your name, madame, so that his father, his sister, and he himself may bless you?’ ‘My name? Iam the Duchess de Chateaufort, but do not tell him.’ ’’ ‘‘So she wished to favor me without my knowing it,”’ said Belle-Rose. ‘Three times she recommended to me the most absolute silence, but I have not kept that promise. There is no hatred or fault which a similar service does not wipe-out. I went out with Madame de Chateaufort, whose carriage was waiting for her before the hotel. ‘Make haste,’ she said to me, and pressing my hand, she droveaway. Half an hour later, I was galloping at headlong speed over the road to Cambrai.’’ ‘‘And you arrived at the right time.’’ “IT do not know what fear scourged my soul, as I spurred on my horse, but afeach relay I rode faster. A voice cried — to me that your Tife depended on my speed, and I passed like a bullet over the route.’ ‘And it is to Madame de Chateaufort I owe this exist- ence so many times threatened !’’ Just then Monsieur de Naucrais entered the room. ‘‘Lieutenant,’’ said he, ‘“‘the time for conversation is Eomicbooks:.co