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An Old Sword

           

           HisgriefwhichhethoughtwasatitsmaximumatthemomentwhenhehadspokentomademoiselledelaMolehadbeenrenderedahundredtimesmoreintensebythetearsofshamewhichhesawhershedding.

           Hewouldhavebeenthehappiestofmenifhehadbeenabletokillher.

           Whenhewasonthepointofdrawingtheswordwithsomedifficultyfromitsancientscabbard,Mathilde,renderedhappybysonovelasensation,advancedproudlytowardshim,hertearsweredry.

           ThethoughtofhisbenefactorthemarquisdelaMolepresenteditselfvividlytoJulien."ShallIkillhisdaughter?"hesaidtohimself,"howhorrible."Hemadeamovementtothrowdownthesword."Shewillcertainly,"hethought,"burstoutlaughingatthesightofsuchamelodramaticpose:"thatideawasresponsibleforhisregainingallhisself-possession.Helookedcuriouslyatthebladeoftheoldswordasthoughhehadbeenlookingforsomespotofrust,thenputitbackinthescabbardandreplaceditwiththeutmosttranquillityonthegiltbronzenailfromwhichithung.

           Thewholemanœuvre,whichtowardstheendwasveryslow,lastedquiteaminute;mademoiselledelaMolelookedathiminastonishment."SoIhavebeenonthevergeofbeingkilledbymylover,"shesaidtoherself.

           ThisideatransportedherintothepalmiestdaysoftheageofCharlesIX.andofHenriIII.

           ShestoodmotionlessbeforeJulien,whohadjustreplacedthesword;shelookedathimwitheyeswhosehatredhaddisappeared.

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