Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 100: what you’re looking at

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

88 THE LIGHTING OF A PASSION. ‘Young, brave, and handsome—all at the same time!” Then she continued, smilingly: ‘*You are too much in the right for Monsieur de Ville- brais not to be a little in the wrong.”’ It would be difficult to account for the profound joy which expanded in the heart of Belle-Rose. It certainly was not born of the hope of escaping an inevitable con- demnation; he had determined to go and seek it himself. Was it not rather occasioned by the interest which the fair unknown seemed to take in him? Belle-Rose alone would have been able to explain the nature of his sensa- tions, and they were still too confused for him to think of analyzing them. ‘‘Monsieur de Villebrais is nevertheless a good swords- man?’’ said the lady, following with the eyes upon the face of Belle-Rose the reflection of his fugitive thoughts. ‘“You are then very redoubtable, sword in hand?’’ ‘‘T had right on my side, madame.”’ “If you defend a sister so valiantly, what, then, would you do for a mistress?’’ ‘‘T would do my best.”’ ‘Then she whom you love will be well guarded. ’’ At these words, which recalled Suzanne to him, Belle- Rose blushed. The lady took notice of it. ‘‘Ah! you love!’’ said she, casting a rapid glance at the wounded man. At this moment a waiting woman entered the apart- ment. On seeing Belle-Rose she trembled; but the un- known lady, making the gesture of throwing back the tresses of her hair, placed her finger upon her lips. ‘The carriage which madame asked for is ready,’’ said the waiting woman. The duchess was about to depart. Belle-Rose wished to salute her, but the effort which he had just made in rising had exhausted his strength; he tottered and leaned upon the back of a fauteuil to keep from falling. ‘‘Monsieur de Villebrais is dying,’’ said the waiting wo- man to her mistress, speaking low. The duchess had advanced toward the door; on turning back to throw a last look at Belle-Rose, she saw the livid pallor extending over his forehead, which was moistened by a tiny stream of blood. Witha haughty gesture, she dismissed the waiting woman and rushed to him. ‘‘T remain,’’ said the duchess. (E(0) micboo S (eo)