At ten o'clock Albert de Savarus had not yet appeared. The storm that
threatened now burst. Some of the gentlemen sat down to cards, finding
the thing intolerable. The Abbe de Grancey, who did not know what to
think, went to the window where Rosalie was hidden, and exclaimed
aloud in his amazement, "He must be dead!"
The Vicar-General stepped out into the garden, followed by Monsieur de
Watteville and his daughter, and they all three went up to the kiosk.
In Albert's rooms all was dark; not a light was to be seen.
"Jerome!" cried Rosalie, seeing the servant in the yard below. The
Abbe looked at her with astonishment. "Where in the world is your
master?" she asked the man, who came to the foot of the wall.
"Gone--in a post-chaise, mademoiselle."
"He is ruined!" exclaimed the Abbe de Grancey, "or he is happy!"
The joy of triumph was not so effectually concealed on Rosalie's face
that the Vicar-General could not detect it. He affected to see
nothing.
"What can this girl have had to do with this business?" he asked
himself.
They all three returned to the drawing-room, where Monsieur de
Watteville announced the strange, the extraordinary, the prodigious
news of the lawyer's departure, without any reason assigned for his
evasion. By half-past eleven only fifteen persons remained, among them
Madame de Chavoncourt and the Abbe de Godenars, another Vicar-General,
a man of about forty, who hoped for a bishopric, the two Chavoncourt
girls, and Monsieur de Vauchelles, the Abbe de Grancey, Rosalie,
Amedee de Soulas, and a retired magistrate, one of the most
influential members of the upper circle of Besancon, who had been very
eager for Albert's election.
Pages:
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148