Belle-Rose — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

104 THE AGONY. , 2 “Well and eood!’’ said he, ‘if death comes, it will find 3 | me prepared.’’ He made an effort to rise and sat down. His face sud- denly grew colored, his eyes were inflamed, he smiled. In. that supreme moment, when life was struggling with death, the features of Monsieur d’Assonville were lt up by a wonderful beauty. Belle-Rose thought hesaw him as on that day when, near theabbaye de St. Georges, he quitted © the Hungarian cavaliers. “Therefore, ’ ’ said the captain, ‘‘do what I asked you? I : leave content. And nevertheless I have not seen her! You— understand me, you who love! To leave without the hand of a woman constantly adored having pressed yours—’tis a great grief! Such is the fate reserved to me. Oh! I have. indeed suffered! You do not know all, you have not read in that heart where lived a dear and bitter recollection; it has dried up the springs of hope. When one has loved as I have loved, and solitude follows, it is necessary to die—I — am dying! You weep. Have lI then anything: to regret? - She had killed my soul before killing my body.”’ . The glow of fever shone in Monsieur d’ Assonville’s eyes, and about his mouth rested a fleeting smile. He stopped himself for a moment; his eyes strayed over the room and then again fixed themselves upon Belle-Rose. ‘‘It is you who picked me up,’’ he suddenly said to him, ‘‘you who carried me here. Who has brought you here?’’ Belle-Rose blushed. Mi ‘‘T was pursued,’’ replied the sergeant, ‘‘an exile was offered me in this chateau, and I accepted it.”’ ‘‘A kind action! Take care, under this exile there is per- haps a tomb.’’ : Belle-Rose looked at Monsieur d’Assonville, whose words appeared inexplicable to him; the complexion of the dying man had become livid; his voice was disturbed, the agitation of his face extraordinary. ‘‘Some one has saved you! One day I also was saved when fleeing. It was many years ago, and I was twenty years of age. A young girl came to me, gave me her hand, led me on. The cries of my enemies were lost in the dis- tance, and the angel who saved me released my hand and blushed. How beautiful she was, my God! She concealed — me some days—I loved her all my life! She also loved me; my transports delighted her, her love dazzled me. How many times have I not returned to that retreat where - she appeared to me for the first time! I was intoxicated! the sight of her was heaven tomy heart: If she had said GComicbooks (ee)