A few yards behind, the
captain was quietly approaching to join our caravan; we gazed at him
in silence, for no one dared question him; but he, understanding our
curiosity, pointed to his breast with the forefinger of his right
hand, and, waving the left in the direction of the fire, he said,
'/Son'io/.'
"We all walked on without saying a word to him."
"There is nothing more terrible than the revolt of a sheep," said de
Marsay.
"It would be frightful to let us leave with this horrible picture in
our memory," said Madame de Montcornet. "I shall dream of it----"
"And what was the punishment of Monsieur de Marsay's 'First'?" said
Lord Dudley, smiling.
"When the English are in jest, their foils have the buttons on," said
Blondet.
"Monsieur Bianchon can tell us, for he saw her dying," replied de
Marsay, turning to me.
"Yes," said I; "and her end was one of the most beautiful I ever saw.
The Duke and I had spent the night by the dying woman's pillow;
pulmonary consumption, in the last stage, left no hope; she had taken
the sacrament the day before. The Duke had fallen asleep.
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