Moths by Ouida — page 379: what you’re looking at

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

~ MOTHS. ! 375, - Correze turned into Bignon’s, which he was passing, and read iv sitting in the light of the great salon. . It would have hurt him less to have had a score of swords buried in his breast. | ‘“If I avenge her I shall but darken her name more!” he thought, in that agony of impotence which is the bitterest suffer- . ing a bold and a fervent temper can ever know, At that moment Sergius Zouroft entered: he had both men and women with him. Among the women were a circus rider of the Hippodrome and the quadroon Casse-une-Croute. It was midnight. Correze rose to his feet at abound, and approached the hus- band of Vere. With a movement of his hand he showed him the article he had read. - * Prince Zouroff,” he said, between his teeth, ‘‘ will you chas- tise this as it merits, or do you leave it to me?” : Zouroff looked at him with a cold stare. He had already seen the paper. For the moment he was silent. ‘‘ITsay,” repeated Correze, still between his teeth, ‘‘do you avenge the honor of the Princess Zouroff? lJask you in public, that your answer may be public:” ‘‘The honor of the Princess Zoureffi” echoed her husband, with aloud laugh. ‘* Mais—cest a vous, monsieur!” Correze lifted his hand and struck him on the cheek. ‘* You are a liar, you are a coward, and you are an adulterer!” » he. said, in his clear, far-reaching voice, that rang like a bell ~ through the silence of the assembled people; and he struck him three times as he spoke. CHAPTER XXXI. To Szarisla, in the intense starlit cold of a winter’s night, a horseman, in hot haste, brought a message that had been borane . to the nearest city on the electric wires and sent on by swift riders over many versts of snow and ice. | | | It was a message from Sergius Zourofi to his wife, and her women took it to her when she lay asleep—the troubled, weary — sleep that eomes at morning to those whose eyes have not closed all night. It was but a few words. It said only, ‘‘I have shot your nightingale in the throat. He will sing no more!” ' She read the message. For a few moments she knew nothing; a great darkness fell upon her, and she saw nothing; it passed away, and the native courage and energy of her character came to life after their long | paralysis. She said no word to any living creature.. She lay quite still upon her bed, her hand crushed upon the paper. She bade her — women leave her, and they did so, though they were frightened | at her look and reluctant. Lin | _ It was an hour past midnight, | comicbooks ” col