The Last Vendée; or, the She-Wolves of MachecoulDumas, Alexandre
History
The Last Vendée; or, the She-Wolves of Machecoul
Dumas, Alexandre
Berry, Marie-Caroline de Bourbon-Sicile, duchesse de, 1798-1870 -- Fiction; France -- History -- Louis Philippe, 1830-1848 -- Fiction
Besides, was it believable that his mother, noted for her piety and
claiming all the virtues, could have acted in this affair just the
reverse of two young girls of whom so much evil was said in the
neighborhood? But if things should happen as Rosine said, wouldn't
that prove that these young girls had souls after God's own heart? Of
course, however, it was quite certain that neither of them would come.
The young man was repeating this for the tenth time in as many minutes
when he saw, at the angle of the road round which Rosine had
disappeared, the shadows of two women. In spite of the coming darkness
he saw that one was Rosine; but as for the person with her, it was
impossible to recognize her identity, for she was wrapped in a large
mantle.
Baron Michel was so perplexed in mind, and his heart above all was so
agitated, that his legs failed him, and he stood stock-still till the
girls came up to him.
"Well, Monsieur le baron," said Rosine, with much pride, "what did I
tell you?"
"What did you tell him?" said the girl in the mantle.
Michel sighed. By the firm and decided tone of voice he knew she was
Bertha.
"I told him that I shouldn't be turned away from your house as I was
from the château de la Logerie," answered Rosine.
"But," said Michel, "perhaps you have not told Mademoiselle de Souday
what is the matter with your father."
"From the symptoms," said Bertha, "I suppose it is typhoid fever. That
is why we have not a minute to lose; it is an illness that requires to
be taken in time. Are you coming with us, Monsieur Michel?"
"But, mademoiselle," said the young man, "typhoid fever is
contagious."
"Some say it is, and others say it is not," replied Bertha,
carelessly.
"But," insisted Michel, "it is deadly."
"Yes, in many cases; though it is often cured."
The young man went close up to Bertha.
"Are you really going to expose yourself to such a danger?" he said.
"Of course I am."
"For an unknown man, a stranger to you?"
"Those who are strangers to us," said Bertha, with infinite
gentleness, "are fathers, brothers, husbands, to other human beings.
There is no such thing as a stranger in this world, Monsieur Michel;
even to you this man may be something."
"He was the husband of my nurse," stammered Michel.
"There! you see," said Bertha, "you can't regard him as a stranger."
"I did offer to go back to the château with Rosine and give her the
money to get a doctor."
"And she refused, preferring to come to us? Thank you, Rosine," said
Bertha.
The young man was dumfounded. He had heard of charity, but he had
never seen it; and here it was embodied in the form of Bertha. He
followed the young girls thoughtfully, with his head down.
"If you are coming with us, Monsieur Michel," said Bertha, "be so kind
as to carry this little box, which contains the medicines."
"No," said Rosine, "Monsieur le baron can't come with us, for he knows
what a dread madame has of contagious diseases."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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