Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

98 A SERPENT IN THE SHADOW. implacable enemy; but before sending back the key which she herself had given him, he had one forged exactly sim- ilar to it, promising himself to make use of it when the occasion called for it. This occasion soon presented itself. The seclusion in which Madame de Chateaufort had been living for two or three months began to be remarked at court. Monsieur de Villebrais ascribed this seclusion to the inconstancy of his mistress, and came to the conclusion that anew love dominated her. Wishing to know his happy rival, he disguised himself, left for the residence of Madame de Chateaufort, penetrated the park, and saw the duchess pass on Belle-Rose’s arm. At sight of the soldier, Monsieur de Villebrais with difficulty restrained a cry of rage; the man who had insulted him, and who had con- quered him sword in hand, had now stolen his mistress! It was too much by half for him to endure. For one mo- ment Monsieur de Villebrais thought of rushing forward, and, arming himself with the military authority, reclaim the deserter; but he knew that the duchess was a woman who would never pardon such an offense, and the fear of being cut short in his career by her resentment stopped him. ‘This constraint only served to render more keen his desire for vengeance. Not being able to struggle openly, he determined to wait and to confide to his own arm the task of making Belle-Rose pay ata single stroke for all the wounds which he had received from him. To better enchain Belle-Rose, Madame de Chateaufort multiplied the pleasures permitted him by a sojourn in the country. The chase entered largely into these pleasures. One morn- ing, just as she was preparing to mount on horseback to hunt the stag, her waiting woman ran frightened up the steps of the chateau. She held a letter in her hand. ‘*T will read it this evening,’’ said the duchess. The waiting woman stopped her as she was setting foot in the stirrups, and spoke to her in a low tone. ‘*What does it matter?’’ said her mistress, impatiently. And she leaped into the saddle. A moment after, the fanfares sounded and the chase was lost under the foliage. ‘*Yes,’’ murmured the waiting woman, ‘‘he is young, handsome, and charming; but the captain is at Paris, so let him beware!”’ The next day, while the duchess’ women were prepar- ing her clothing, the absent hand of Genevieve picked up on her toilet the disdained letter and opened it. At the first words, she grew pale; at the last line she uttered a faint cry and trembled with agitation. Eomicbook