Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

56 THE DROPS IN THE CUP. ‘*Diable!’’ said the other, ‘‘if you are sick, you should say so.’’ Belle-Rose had just perceived the country through the open doors of the chapel; at the same time he recollected everything, and, making no answer, he rushed out of the building. He crossed the terraces, constantly running, and leaping over hedges and ditches, he advanced more quickly than a stag toward the house of Guillaume Grinedal. The garden was deserted; he crossed itand pushed open the door of the house. A man turned round, and Belle- Rose fell at his feet. ‘‘My father!’’ he exclaimed, and he fainted. The father knelt down near his son. He wasalone, Clau- dine and Pierre having remained at the chateau. The sol- dier was lying still; the violence of his emotions and the fatigue had exhausted his strength. Guillaume took him in his arms and laid him upon a bench fastened to the wall, Belle-Rose’s heart beat, but-his half-closed eyes stared vacantly. They had been together for more than an hour—the son speechless and cold, the father praying to God—when the door, pushed violently open, gave passage to two women enveloped in mantles. When the mantles fell, Guillaume recognized Suzanneand Claudine. Suzanne reached the bench with a bound, leaned over Belle-Rose, eyed him a moment, then turned to the old falconer. Her looks had a terrible eloquence. They were filled with all the terror, with all the remorse, with all the reproaches of the woman who loves. Guillaume understood this look. ‘*He lives,’’ said he. ‘‘But he is going to die,’’ exclaimed Suzanne. ‘‘God will spare me that trial,’’ said the father. ‘‘Oh! I was not deceived,’’ said she; ‘‘it was indeed he! When I saw him so pale that he had the appearance of a corpse rather than of a living being, all my blood grew chilled. Oh, Guillaume, what have you exacted? Clau- dine, what have you made me do?”’ It was no longer the same woman. All the reserve, all the calm, all the serenity of Suzanne had abandoned her; her disordered hair streamed over the bridal toilet; she was whiter than her dress; her lips quivered; she wrung her hands. - ‘‘But you see that he is dying!’’ she cried, falling upon her knees; ‘‘he has not even recognized me!’’ Guillaume took pity on such a profound despair; he forgot his own grief to think only of Suzanne. Gomicbooks (E(0)