"My lady," he said, "you have gained all, and lost nothing. Blessed be
God!"
"Blessed be God!" the minister wept. And from the passage without came
the sound of laughter and weeping and many voices, with a flutter of
lights and flying skirts, and women's feet.
She stared at him wildly, doubtfully, her hand at her throat.
"What?" she said, "he is not dead--M. de Tignonville?"
"No, he is alive," La Tribe answered, "he is alive." And he lifted up
his hands as if he gave thanks.
"Alive?" she cried. "Alive! Oh, Heaven is merciful. You are sure? You
are sure?"
"Sure, Madame, sure. He was not in their hands. He was dismounted in
the first shock, it seems, and, coming to himself after a time, crept
away and reached St. Gilles, and came hither in a boat. But the enemy
learned that he had not entered with us, and of this the priest wove his
snare. Blessed be God, who put it into your heart to escape it!"
The Countess stood motionless, and with closed eyes pressed her hands to
her temples. Once she swayed as if she would fall her length, and Bigot
sprang forward to support and save her. But she opened her eyes at that,
sighed very deeply, and seemed to recover herself.
"You are sure?" she said faintly. "It is no trick?"
"No, Madame, it is no trick," La Tribe answered.
Pages:
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454