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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Under the Red Robe"

But at that word she stood before me, white,
breathless, dishevelled, struggling for speech.
'Oh, yes, yes!' she panted eagerly. 'I know--I know!' And she
thrust her hand into her bosom and plucked something out and gave
it to me--forced it upon me. 'I know--I know!' she said again.
'Take it, and God reward you, Monsieur! God reward you! We give
it freely--freely and thankfully!'
I stood and looked at her and it; and slowly I froze. She had
given me the packet--the packet I had restored to Mademoiselle--
the parcel of jewels. I weighed it in my hands, and my heart
grew hard again, for I knew that this was Mademoiselle's doing;
that it was she who, mistrusting the effect of Madame's tears and
prayers, had armed her with this last weapon--this dirty bribe.
I flung it down on the table among the plates.
'Madame!' I cried ruthlessly, all my pity changed to anger, 'you
mistake me altogether! I have heard hard words enough in the
last twenty-four hours, and I know what you think of me! But you
have yet to learn that I have never done one thing. I have never
turned traitor to the hand that employed me, nor sold my own
side! When I do so for a treasure ten times the worth of that,
may my hand rot off!'
She sank on a seat with a moan of despair; and precisely at that
moment M.


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