far as Doltaire was concerned I was out of
the counting in the young lady's sight. In any case my life was of
no account, for I was sure my death was already determined on. Yet it
seemed strange that Doltaire should wish me dead, for he had reasons for
keeping me alive, as shall be seen.
Juste Duvarney liked me once, I knew, but still he had the Frenchman's
temper, and had always to argue down his bias against my race, and to
cherish a good heart towards me; for he was young, and most sensitive to
the opinions of his comrades. I can not express what misery possessed
me when I saw him leave Doltaire, and, coming to me where I stood alone,
say--
"What secrets found you at our seigneury, monsieur?"
I understood the taunt--as though I were the common interrogation mark,
the abuser of hospitality, the abominable Paul Pry. But I held my wits
together.
"Monsieur," said I, "I found the secret of all good life: a noble
kindness to the unfortunate."
There was a general laugh, led by Doltaire, a concerted influence on the
young gentleman. I cursed myself that I had been snared to this trap.
"The insolent," responded Duvarney, "not the unfortunate."
"Insolence is no crime, at least," I rejoined quietly, "else this room
were a penitentiary."
There was a moment's pause, and presently, as I kept my eye on him, he
raised his handkerchief and flicked me across the face with it, saying,
"Then this will be a virtue, and you may have more such virtues as often
as you will."
In spite of will, my blood pounded in my veins, and a devilish anger
took hold of me. To be struck across the face by a beardless Frenchman,
scarce past his teens!--it shook me more than now I care to own. I felt
my cheek burn, my teeth clinched, and I know a kind of snarl came from
me; but again, all in a moment, I caught a turn of his head, a motion
of the hand, which brought back Alixe to me. Anger died away, and I saw
only a youth flushed with wine, stung by suggestions, with that foolish
pride the youngster feels--and he was the youngest of them all--in
being as good a man as the best, and as daring as the worst. I felt how
useless it would be to try the straightening of matters there, though
had we two been alone a dozen words would have been enough. But to try
was my duty, and I tried with all my might; almost, for Alixe's sake,
with all my heart.
"Do not trouble to illustrate your meaning," said I patiently. "Your
phrases are clear and to
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