The Triumph of the Scarlet Pimpernel Baroness Orczy (best finance books of all time .TXT) đ
- Author: Baroness Orczy
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He spoke below his breath, in a hoarse whisper which even she had to strain her ears to hear.
âI know, I know, Bertrand,â she rejoined, and her tiny hand stole out in a pathetic endeavour to capture his. âYour aims are splendid. You are wonderful, all of you. Who am I, that I should even with a word or a prayer, try to dissuade you to do what you think is right? But JosĂ©phine is so young, so hotheaded! What help can she give you? She is only seventeen. And Jacques! He is just an irresponsible boy! Think, Bertrand, think! If anything were to happen to these children, it would kill maman!â
He gave a shrug of the shoulders and smothered a weary sigh. She had succeeded in capturing his hand, clung to it with the strength of a passionate appeal.
âYou and I will never understand one another, RĂ©gine,â he began; then added quickly, âover these matters,â because, following on his cruel words, he had heard the tiny cry of pain, so like that of a wounded bird, which much against her will had escaped her lips. âYou do not understand,â he went on, more quietly, âthat in a great cause the sufferings of individuals are nought beside the glorious achievement that is in view.â
âThe sufferings of individuals,â she murmured, with a pathetic little sigh. âIn truth âtis but little heed you pay, Bertrand, to my sufferings these days.â She paused awhile, then added under her breath: âSince first you met Theresia Cabarrus, three months ago, you have eyes and ears only for her.â
He smothered an angry exclamation.
âIt is useless, RĂ©gineâ ââ he began.
âI know,â she broke in quietly. âTheresia Cabarrus is beautiful; she has charm, wit, powerâ âall things which I do not possess.â
âShe has fearlessness and a heart of gold,â Bertrand rejoined and, probably despite himself, a sudden warmth crept into his voice. âDo you not know of the marvellous influence which she exercised over that fiend Tallien, down in Bordeaux? He went there filled with a veritable tigerâs fury, ready for a wholesale butchery of all the royalists, the aristocrats, the bourgeois, over thereâ âall those, in fact, whom he chose to believe were conspiring against this hideous Revolution. Well! under Theresiaâs influence he actually modified his views and became so lenient that he was recalled. You know, or should know, RĂ©gine,â the young man added in a tone of bitter reproach, âthat Theresia is as good as she is beautiful.â
âI do know that, Bertrand,â the girl rejoined with an effort. âOnlyâ ââ
âOnly what?â he queried roughly.
âI do not trust herâ ââ ⊠that is all.â Then, as he made no attempt at concealing his scorn and his impatience, she went on in a tone which was much harsher, more uncompromising than the one she had adopted hitherto: âYour infatuation blinds you, Bertrand, or youâ âan enthusiastic royalist, an ardent loyalistâ âwould not place your trust in an avowed Republican. Theresia Cabarrus may be kindheartedâ âI donât deny it. She may have done and she may be all that you say; but she stands for the negation of every one of your ideals, for the destruction of what you exalt, the glorification of the principles of this execrable Revolution.â
âJealousy blinds you, RĂ©gine,â he retorted moodily.
She shook her head.
âNo, it is not jealousy, Bertrandâ ânot common, vulgar jealousyâ âthat prompts me to warn you, before it is too late. Remember,â she added solemnly, âthat you have not only yourself to think of, but that you are accountable to God and to me for the innocent lives of JosĂ©phine and of Jacques. By confiding in that Spanish womanâ ââ
âNow you are insulting her,â he broke in mercilessly. âMaking her out to be a spy.â
âWhat else is she?â the girl riposted vehemently. âYou know that she is affianced to Tallien, whose influence and whose cruelty are second only to those of Robespierre. You know it, Bertrand!â she insisted, seeing that at last she had silenced him and that he sat beside her, sullen and obstinate. âYou know it, even though you choose to close your eyes and ears to what is common knowledge.â
There was silence after that for a while in the narrow porch, where two hearts once united were filled now with bitterness, one against the other. Even out in the street it had become quite dark, the darkness of a spring night, full of mysterious lights and grey, indeterminate shadows. The girl shivered as with cold and drew her tattered shawl more closely round her shoulders. She was vainly trying to swallow her tears. Goaded into saying more than she had ever meant to, she felt the finality of what she had said. Something had finally snapped just now: something that could never in after years be put together again. The boy and girl love which had survived the past two years of trouble and of stress, lay wounded unto death, bleeding at the foot of the shrine of a manâs infatuation and a womanâs vanity. How impossible this would have seemed but a brief while ago!
Through the darkness, swift visions of past happy times came fleeting before the girlâs tear-dimmed gaze: visions of walks in the woods round Auteuil, of drifting downstream in a boat on the Seine on hot August daysâ âaye! even of danger shared and perilous moments passed together, hand in hand, with bated breath, in
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