"You are standing in my way, Sister. Seek Monsieur
le Chevalier, if you will be so kind. He is in the citadel."
She moved to one side, and he passed into the room. When he reached
the bedside, he turned. Sister Benie dropped her gaze, stepped into
the corridor, and softly closed the door. Brother Jacques and the
marquis were alone. The mask of calm fell from the priest's
countenance, leaving it gloomy and haggard. But the fever in his eyes
remained unchanged.
"It is something that you have forgiven me, Margot," the marquis
murmured. His fancy had veered again. His eyes were closed; and
Brother Jacques could see the shadow of the iris beneath the lids.
"Margot?" Brother Jacques trembled. "He wanders! Will he regain
lucidity?"
A quarter of an hour passed. The moonbeam on the wall moved
perceptibly. Once Brother Jacques pulled forth the letter and glanced
again at the address. It was singular. It recalled to him that night
when this old man had pressed D'Herouville to the wall. "To Monsieur
le Marquis de Perigny, to be delivered into his hands at my death."
The priest wondered whose death this meant.
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