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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Count Hannibal A Romance of the Court of France"

Moreover," he continued solemnly, "I am certified
that this task has been set for you. It was not for nothing, Madame, nor
to save one poor household that you were joined to this man; but to
ransom all these lives and this great city. To be the Judith of our
faith, the saviour of Angers, the--"
"Fool! Fool!" she cried. "Will you be silent?" And she stamped the
turf passionately, while her eyes blazed in her white face. "I am no
Judith, and no madwoman as you are fain to make me. Mad?" she continued,
overwhelmed with agitation, "My God, I would I were, and I should be free
from this!" And, turning, she walked a little way from him with the
gesture of one under a crushing burden.
He waited a minute, two minutes, three minutes, and still she did not
return. At length she came back, her bearing more composed; she looked
at him, and her eyes seized his and seemed as if they would read his
soul.
"Are you sure," she said, "of what you have told me? Will you swear that
the contents of these letters are as you say?"
"As I live," he answered gravely. "As God lives."
"And you know--of no other way, Monsieur? Of no other way?" she repeated
slowly and piteously.
"Of none, Madame, of none, I swear."
She sighed deeply, and stood sunk in thought.


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