Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

GOOD AND EVIL. 151 the governors of the neighboring places had come to the camp; his cortege was increased by their suite, in which was to be remarked a goodly number of dames belonging to the nobility of Trois-Evéches, Picardy, and Artois. Their presence gave more éclat to these military fétes, and mixed the fascination of gallantry with this warlike attire. Monsieur de Naucrais’ regiment had been designated to line the road conjointly with the king’s household and the Crussol regiments. Belle-Rose was in his rank. Behind the king, among the women of the court, one was the center of attraction. ‘*How beautiful she is!’’ said a cornet of the Crussol regiment, leaning forward to see her better. ‘‘Vrai Dieu!’’ said another officer, ‘‘for that woman I would give my life and my mistress.”’ ‘That woman?’’ added a third; ‘‘say, rather, that god- dess.’”’ Belle-Rose, in his turn, looked in the direction of the ladies; a flash seemed to pass before his dazzled eyes; his heart ceased to beat, and he became as pale as a corpse. Madame de Chateaufort, proud and superb as Diana the Huntress, walked in the middle of the group. She still possessed that splendid beauty which gave her the aspect of a queen. Her sparkling eyes and her scornful lips attracted and repulsed admiration. Nevertheless an inde- finable vail of melancholy softened the somewhat haughty expression of her countenance. At this moment she raised her eyes; Belle-Rose was standing before her. The red lips of Genevieve grew white, her long eyelashes were lowered. But twenty rivals were observing her; she raised her purer than marble forehead and passed on. Belle-Rose was still palpitating under that humid glance, when an- other shock came to move his heart. Suzanne came behind Genevieve. The young officer wished to run to her, but an invincible force held him back; Suzanne seemed not to have seen him, and nevertheless her lips trembled; her profile had lost nothing of its angelic purity, but she was pale and resigned like the daughter of Jeptha. Madame d’Albergotti carried a flower in her hand; in bending her forehead she touched it with her lips, and the rose fell. She wished to stoop to pick it up, but she encountered the glance of Belle-Rose and hesitated; she made one step, then two, and moved away. A second after, the flower had faded under the kisses of Belle-Rose. Rapid though this movement had been, it did-not escape Madame de Chateaufort; she saw it, looked at the woman who was (E(@) micboo Ss (E(0) =)