A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 150: what you’re looking at

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

146 A GENTLEMAN FROM GASCONY. The door closed softly behind them, and for a mo- ment, intense silence reigned in the apartment. Then, averting her head from the bed behind the curtains of which Raoul was hidden, the duchess spoke; “Miserable man, come forth. But cover your face lest meeting you hereafter I should know you and exact the penalty. I will keep the oath I have sworn. Go forth! You are free.” | Slowly Raoul emerged from his hiding-place, his cloak held before his face and his whole frame shaken with noiseless sobs. “Let neither fear nor gratitude betray you,” contin- ued the duchess in the same emotionless tones. “I have kept my word, but if chance discover you within the walls of Paris after morning dawns, I stand between you and death no longer.” . Without a word, Raoul, more miserable than he had ever been in his life, groped his way across the room. But before he could reach the door, it was suddenly opened, and the white-robed figure of Mademoiselle de Vrissac appeared, holding a lamp above her head. With a low cry, Raoul dropped his cloak and invol- untarily sank upon one knee, almost imagining that he was in the presence of some celestial visitor. The light fell full upon his upturned face. “It is he!” cried Gabrielle, half wonderingly, half joyfully. “Raoul de Puycadére! My betrothed!” But between them swept the stately figure of the duchess, stern and inexorable as Fate itself, and from her pallid lips fell slowly, one by one, the icy words which withered all the blossoming hopes of Gabrielle’s young heart: “ And the murderer of my son!” Gomicbooks (e(o in