Clung to him, not so much with the passion of the
mature woman, as with the maiden and sentimental affection of one who has
now no hope of possessing, and for whom love no longer spells life, but
sacrifice.
She had leisure for these musings, for she was left to herself all that
day, and until late on the following day. Her own servants waited on
her, and it was known that below stairs Count Hannibal's riders kept
sullen ward behind barred doors and shuttered windows, refusing admission
to all who came. Now and again echoes of the riot which filled the
streets with bloodshed reached her ears: or word of the more striking
occurrences was brought to her by Madame Carlat. And early on this
second day, Monday, it was whispered that M. de Tavannes had not
returned, and that the men below were growing uneasy.
At last, when the suspense below and above was growing tense, it was
broken. Footsteps and voices were heard ascending the stairs, the
trampling and hubbub were followed by a heavy knock; perforce the door
was opened. While Mademoiselle, who had risen, awaited with a beating
heart she knew not what, a cowled father, in the dress of the monks of
St. Magloire, stood on the threshold, and, crossing himself, muttered the
words of benediction. He entered slowly.
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