Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 253: what you’re looking at

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

A WHITE NIGHT. 237 my eyes and ran here more Cead than alive. She was ina convent, my poor sister; she never left it.’”’ Gabrielle pressed her face to Suzanne’s breast and sobbed grievously. ‘‘And you have no relatives?”’ ‘‘Relatives! Oh! I have several of them, perhaps too many of them. We were rich, so rich that several envied us! Itis horrible! horrible!’’ Gabrielle trembled from head to foot. ‘It was my mother who died first, beautiful, young, and adored; she grew pale one day, then suffered the next, then went to bed; she complained some days longer and never rose again. My sister loved no one in the world but her. This death rendered her mad; she went to a convent, there she suffered as I am suffering, and she only left it to go to the cemetery with a crown of white roses upon her forehead.”’ ‘*Poor girl!’’ murmured Suzanne. ‘‘Is it of me or of the dead you speak?”’’ said Gabrielle; “‘our destiny will be the same. A brother was left us, an adorable child six years old, frank, joyous, with rosy lips and eyes like flowers. Poor Henri! one morning he awoke with the pallor of marble upon his forehead; his lips were blue, his skin dry and hot; he threw his arms around my neck, telling me that his breast was on fire; at noon his little hands were already cold, and when evening came he was dead!”’ Suzanne pressed Gabrielle to her breast. ‘*You are astonished,’’ said the young girl, in a hollow voice, ‘‘but you have understood nothing, then? You know nothing?’’ ‘*What?’’ said Suzanne, with affright. ‘*We were rich; others wished our wealth. They will get it—I alone am left.’’ And in low tones she added: ‘**Poison is in France, poison is everywhere; it is in the heart of families, it is in the water we drink, in the fruit we eat, in the flower which we caress, in the perfume we breathe. It is the invisible, infallible enemy; it devours France; it is in the heart of the kingdom; it is the master, despoiler, and king. Itis my fortune they wish—am I not the last heir? Let them keep this fortune, I shall take the vail. Iam afraid to die at seventeen. My God! I should like to live.”’ Tears sprang from Gabrielle’s eyes; terror, fever, and (€(0) Mmicooo 3