Belle-Rose — page 374: what you’re looking at

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

/ taken Belle-Rose under his protection, and the king, Mon- sieur de Louvois knew, did not like for any one to inter- pose himself between him and his will. Monsieur de Louvois asked himself if it was worth while to expose himself to a dangerous struggle for the slender pleasure of following his vengeance against a man who, take it all in all, was in the right, and if it would not be greater, more worthy, and above all more politic to abjure his projects, for the future useless and perilous. He recollected that before all things, and in the high position in which events and his genius had placed him, he ought to be a states- man. Monsieur de Louvois passed his hand over his grave and burning forehead, drank some water, and with that strength of will which was peculiarly his, enchained his hatred in the depth of his heart. Belle-Rose had finished. The minister read the statement and nodded approval. ‘‘You have been modest as well as brave,’’ he said to him, ‘‘it is for me to repair your omissions, and I will do it like aman who has been your enemy. Go, monsieur le vicomte; you are a soldier and Iam a minister; let each of us serve his king according to his strength and his con- science. Give me your hand, and believe me that you will no longer find me between you and fortune. ’’ | Belle-Rose took the hand which the minister extended to him and moved away, if not captivated by the man, at Jeast full of admiration for the minister whose firm genius commanded everything, even his passions. Meanwhile Belle-Rose had left Paris toward evening. In haste to see Suzanne again, and disturbed about Deroute’s absence, he went at arapid pace. Night had come—a summer night, clear and starry. When the carriage had passed beyond Pontoise, he heard the funeral bell tolling in the midst of the deep silence. The bronze voice came from the direc- tion of St. Claire d’Ennery, from that abbey where he had left all that which attached him to the world. A cold sweat bathed the temples of Belle-Rose, and he ordered _Grippard to apply the whip to the horses. The carriage rolled rapidly on. The funeral knell buzzed in the ears of Belle-Rose. This voice of death in the midst of these tranquil plains congealed the blood in his veins. When he was near the abbey he saw, through the open doors nuns praying in the chapel and the silent crowd thronging under the somber vault. Belle-Rose entered the abbey, not_ knowing what new misfortune threatened him. When the door opened and he saw Genevieve stretched out upon her ‘bed, immovable and white, Belle-Rose understood every- (E(oy payiicel exoXo) << (E(e)