I will give you an hour or two. I can't give you
more, for how do we know how fast they may be making Madame de Cintre
a nun? Talk it over with your mother; let her judge whether she is
frightened. I don't believe she is as easily frightened, in general, as
you; but you will see. I will go and wait in the village, at the inn,
and I beg you to let me know as soon as possible. Say by three o'clock.
A simple YES or NO on paper will do. Only, you know, in case of a yes
I shall expect you, this time, to stick to your bargain." And with this
Newman opened the door and let himself out. The marquis did not move,
and Newman, retiring, gave him another look. "At the inn, in the
village," he repeated. Then he turned away altogether and passed out of
the house.
He was extremely excited by what he had been doing, for it was
inevitable that there should be a certain emotion in calling up the
spectre of dishonor before a family a thousand years old. But he went
back to the inn and contrived to wait there, deliberately, for the next
two hours. He thought it more than probable that Urbain de Bellegarde
would give no sign; for an answer to his challenge, in either sense,
would be a confession of guilt. What he most expected was silence--in
other words defiance. But he prayed that, as he imagined it, his shot
might bring them down.
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