"Do you think that Comte Leodgard"s wound is dangerous, Sire de Jarnonville?"
At that moment a clock on the mantel shelf struck twelve; the chevalier listened, then replied:
"The Comte de Marvejols no longer lives!"
"Do you think so?"
"I am certain, monseigneur."
The minister"s expression became less stern. He returned the sword to Jarnonville, and said:
"In that case, all is for the best; one culprit is punished, and that is enough. As for you, chevalier, I pardon you, in spite of your duel--for, of course, you fought with the count, did you not?--But put this sword out of sight; break it, for it might compromise you. Go, chevalier; comfort a widow and protect an orphan, as you have protected the honor of the name they bear."
When Jarnonville returned to the Hotel de Marvejols, he found everybody in tears. The countess, anxious about her husband, had disregarded his prohibition and returned to his side; she no longer found him living who had embraced their child a few moments before.
Ambroisine ran to meet the chevalier to give him this intelligence; Jarnonville pressed the girl"s hand tenderly, as he replied:
"Let us think of nothing now but comforting your friend; time will do the rest; her child"s love, your friendship, my devotion, will avail, I hope, to afford her many happy days."
Toward the close of this day, which had witnessed so many events, a girl prowling about the neighborhood of the Hotel de Marvejols learned at last that the Comte de Marvejols no longer existed. Thereupon her face lighted up, and, raising her eyes heavenward, she said to herself:
"I may hold my peace now; for Giovanni is avenged; and soon, I hope, I shall join him."
In the year following Bathilde"s widowhood, Ambroisine became the wife of the Sire de Jarnonville, who, finding in the _belle baigneuse_ all the virtuous and estimable qualities of the mind, combined with physical beauty, did not hesitate to form a _mesalliance_, in order to possess them all.
It is said that the Chevalier de Pa.s.sedix was seriously ill after his bath, and was thereby cured of his love for Miretta. When he met Bahuchet and Plumard again, he belabored them with the flat of Roland, then took them into his service once more as page and esquire; for by flattering the Gascon"s amour propre, they were always able to obtain pardon for their rascalities.
Let us say a word more of that little angel, pretty Blanche, whose sweet words had taught that pure, sincere sentiment that led her father back to virtue.
She at least was happy.
All roses do not die in the bud.