Chapter 9 seven

As soon as the curate recognized Edmee, he drew back three steps, and gave a cry of astonishment; but this was nothing compared to Patience's astonishment, when he shook the burning wood for the torch. shine on my face. "The pigeon followed by the little bear!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter?" "My friend," replied Edmee, much to my amazement, as she laid her white hand in the rough of the wizard's, "receive him as you have me. He freed me from my prison at the Mopra me." "May his kind of vice be forgiven for this action!" said the parish priest.

Patience took my arm, and without a word, led me to the fire.I was seated in the only chair in the room, and the curate examined my legs with concern, while Edmee narrated our adventures in moderation, and asked about the hunt and her father.Patience couldn't tell her anything.He had heard horns sound in the woods, and several times the wolfshot had disturbed his day's rest.But when a thunderstorm came and the wind drowned out the other sounds, he knew nothing of what was happening in Varenna.Marcus deftly climbed the ladder that led to the upper floors of the tower, for the stairs were broken; his dog followed him with remarkable agility.After a while, he and the dog came down again, and we learned that a red light had risen in the sky beyond the Maupra Rock.As much as I hated the building and its owners, I could not help being horrified to hear that the ancestral home that bears my name had been seized and burned to the ground; The seal of vassal engraved on my coat of arms by what I call commoners and peasants.I jumped to my feet, and I believe I would have rushed outside were it not for the sharp pain in my feet that held me back.

"What is the matter with you?" asked Edmee, who was by my side at the moment. I answered abruptly: "I must go back there; for it is my duty to be killed rather than have my uncles negotiate with inferiors." "Inferior!" exclaimed Patience, speaking to me for the first time, "who is talking about an inferior here? I belong to the inferior; it is my title, and I will be honored by it. " "To be honest, it won't be my turn," I said, pushing away the curate, who helped me sit down. "But it won't be the first time." Patience replied with a contemptuous smile.

I said to him, "You remind me that we have old issues to settle together." Overcoming the agony of my sprain, I stood up again, and Don Marcas, who wanted to take over the role of peacemaker of the parish priest, was overthrown in the ashes with a wave of my hand.I didn't mean to hurt him, but my movements were a little jerky; the poor man was very weak, and he was as much in my hand as the weasel was in his.Patience stood before me, arms folded, with the attitude of an ascetic philosopher; his dark eyes blazed with hatred.Obviously, bound by his code of hospitality, he waited for me to punch him first in order to break me down.Edmee was not afraid of the danger of approaching a furious person, and if she hadn't seized my arm and snapped at me, "Sit down and be quiet, I order you to do so," then I wouldn't have made him wait.

Such courage and trust in her attract and please me.The rights she arbitrarily bestows on me is like granting me rights over her. "That's right." I sat down and answered, looking at Patience and saying: "There will be a period later." "Amen." He shrugged. Marcus got up calmly and shook off the ashes all over his body. Instead of blaming me, he tried his best to persuade Patience in his own way.It's no easy feat, but the monosyllabic accusation in the preemptive note is as infuriating as an echo in a storm. Marcus said to his master: "You have no patience for anything at your age! Big mistake, yes, you are wrong!"

Edmee put his hand on my shoulder and said: "You are a murderer! Don't do it again, or I will abandon you." I was very happy to blame her, but I didn't realize that once upon a time, we switched roles.Now it is she who commands and threatens; stepping on the threshold of Garzo's Tower, she regains all true mastery over me; A society that tramples on people and will soon endure hardships. "Well," she said, turning to Patience, "we shall not talk here, for my poor father is anxious for me, and he is looking for me, and is restless now. Good Patience! Do something for me, Find my father with this unfortunate child, whom I cannot leave in your care, for you do not love me enough to be patient and kind to him."

"What are you talking about?" Patience said loudly, putting his hand on his forehead, as if waking up from a dream. "Yes, you are right; I am old and reckless, old and irrational. Daughter of God, say to this lad... to this noble man, I beg him to forgive the past, and now I put myself Let him use the poor bachelor's room; is that all right?" "Yes, Paccience," said the curate, "and everything will be arranged; my horse is gentle and strong, and Mademoiselle de Mauprat can ride it; you and Marcus lead the way, and I will stay. Take care of the sprained child. I promise to take care of him and never annoy him. Don't you hate me, Monsieur Bernard? Make sure I'm not your enemy?"

"I know nothing," I answered, "as you please. Take good care of my cousin, and guide her; and I, I need nothing, and care for no one. A bundle of straw and a glass of wine, That's what I want, if possible." "You'll have both," said Marcus, handing me his flagon, "for your comfort; I'll go to the stables and prepare the horses." "No, I will go myself," said Paccience, "you take care of this young man." He went into another low hall, which was used as a stable when the curate visited.He led the horse to the room where we were, spread the curate's cloak over the saddle, and helped Edmee mount with fatherly care.

"Wait a moment," she said before starting, "monsieur curate, will you promise me, in the name of your own salvation, that you will not leave my cousin alone until I come with my father to find him? " "I swear," answered the curate. Edmee said: "And you, Bernard, on your honor, will you wait for me here?" "I know nothing," I answered. "It depends on time and my patience; you know, cousin, we shall meet again anyway, and as for me, the sooner the better." Patience dangled the flaming wood around her, inspecting the harness, and in the light I saw her pretty face flush and white, then she raised her worried, drooping head, and looked queerly. stare at me.

"Shall we go?" Marcus said, opening the door. "Come on," said Patience, holding the bridle, "my boy Edmee, bow your head as you pass the door..." "What's the matter, Blalow?" said Marcus, stopping at the door, thrust forward the point of his sword, rusted gloriously in the pool of rodent blood. Blairo was motionless, and if he were not naturally dumb, as his master claims, he would have barked; but he had his own way of warning: a dry cough, the greatest sign of anger and restlessness... "There's stuff down there," Marcus said.

He dashed very boldly into the darkness, and motioned to the horsewoman not to come out.The sound of the gun made us all tremble.Edmee jumped off the horse lightly, and as an instinctive movement--I didn't let it go--stood behind my chair.Patience rushed out of the tower; the curate ran to the frightened horse, which reared itself up and retreated towards us; at last Blairo cried out.I forgot the pain and jumped forward. There was a man with wounds all over his body, blood dripping down, lying on the doorway.This is my uncle Laurent, mortally wounded at the siege of the Mopra Rock, and dying before our eyes.With him was his brother Leonor, who had just misfired the last pistol bullet, but luckily it didn't hurt anyone.The first gesture of Patience was self-defense; but the fleeing men, recognizing Marcus, far from showing hostility, demanded refuge and aid.No one thinks that they should be denied the assistance their pitiful situation requires.The Mounted Police were chasing them.The Rock of Mauprat is engulfed in flames; Louis and Pierre are killed in the breach of the castle; Antoine, John, and Goucher flee on the other side.Perhaps they have been taken captive.It is impossible to describe Laurent's horror at his deathbed.He died quickly, but horribly.His blasphemous words discolored the parish priest.As soon as the door was closed and the dying man was placed on the ground, he gasped for breath.Leonor, in spite of our advice, knowing only that brandy is medicine, snatched Marcus' jug out of my hand (swearing insulting words for my escape), and with the sharp edge of his hunting knife pried open his brother's Gritting his teeth, he poured out half of the wine in the jug.The unlucky fellow jumped up, flailing his arms in a convulsion of despair, stood up, and collapsed on the blood-stained tile floor, straight and dead.We had no time to say the liturgy; the gates rattled under the urgent hammering of new intruders. "In the name of the King, open the door!" cried several voices. "Open the door to the mounted police." "Defend quickly!" Leona shouted, raised the knife, and rushed to the door. "You peasants, show some aristocratic spirit! You, Bernard, correct your mistakes, wash away your shame, and don't let a Moprat fall into the hands of the gendarmerie!" I was about to imitate him, driven by an instinct of courage and pride, when Patience rushed at him, threw him down with Hercules' strength, put his knee on his chest, and called Malka to open the door.Before I could help my uncle rebel against his ruthless master, the door was already open.Six gendarmes rushed into the tower and held us with guns, immobilizing us. "Well, gentlemen!" said Paccience, "don't hurt anyone, and take this prisoner. If I were alone with him, I would protect him, or let him escape; but here are some A good guy shouldn't pay for a bad guy and I don't want to get them in trouble. This is Mopra. Remember, it's your job to leave him intact to the judiciary. This other Mopra It's dead." "Sir, surrender." The junior officer of the Mounted Police seized Leonard and said. "The Maupras will never come to the benches of the lower courts to declare their names," Leonard replied darkly. "I surrender, but you only get my flesh and blood." He slumped on a chair without resistance. Just as the mounted police were about to tie him up, he said to the parish priest: "Just once, and one last time, please, priest, give me what's left in the jug; I'm thirsty and tired, and I can't bear it." The good curate handed him the jug, which he drank at a gulp.There was something eerily calm about his altered face.He seemed to be dazed, terrified, and lost his resistance.But while the mounted police were binding his feet, he snatched a pistol from the belt of a gendarme and shot himself in the head. I was overwhelmed with emotion at the sight of this spectacle, and lost in a doleful stupor, utterly bewildered by everything around me, as if carved of clay or wood, without realizing that I had long been the subject of serious disputes between the Mounted Police and my masters.A gendarme claimed to recognize me as one of the robbers Maupra.Patience denied that I was obviously a gamekeeper escorting his daughter by M. Hubert de Mauprat.Tired of this argument, I was about to declare my name when I saw a figure appear beside me.Here was Edmee, clinging between the wall and the curate's poor frightened horse; the curate, with his legs erect and eyes blazing, separated her with his own body.She was pale as death, her lips were convulsed with fear, and at first she tried to speak, but she could not, so she gestured.The junior officer was moved by her youth and situation, and waited respectfully for her to speak.At last, she persuaded the mounted police not to take me as a prisoner, and took me back with her to her father's castle, with the assurance that the people at the castle would give satisfactory explanations and guarantees about me.The parish priest and two other witnesses supported this promise, and we set off together.Edmee rode on the junior officer's horse, he mounted one of his men's horses, I rode on the curate's horse, Patience and the curate walked between us on foot, with the mounted police on either side of us, Marcus walked in front, always keeping aloof in panic and restlessness.Two gendarmes remained in the tower, guarding the body and inspecting the scene.