The Whites and the Blues by 1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas Read Free Book Online Page B

if to say, "I know his music."
    "This is my friend Young, who is a poet," continued Schneider.
    The same movement of the head again meaning, "I know his verses."
    "And, lastly, here is my friend Monnet, who is neither a musician nor a poet, but who has eyes and a heart, and who is disposed, as I can see at a glance, to plead your

    cause for you. As for this young friend, as you see, lie is only a student; but he knows enough to conjugate the verb, to love, in three languages. You may therefore explain yourself before them, unless what you have to say is suffi ciently confidential to require a private interview.''
    And he rose as he spoke, pointing to a half open door, leading into an empty salon. Bat the young girl replied, quickly: "No, no, monsieur—"
    Schneider frowned.
    "Your pardon, citizen. No, citizen, what I have to say fears neither light nor publicity."
    Schneider sat down, motioning to the young girl to take a chair. But she shook her head.
    "It is more fitting that suppliants should stand," she said.
    "Then," said Schneider, "let us proceed regularly. I have told you who we are; will you tell us who you are?"
    "My name is Clotilde Brumpt."
    "De Brumpt, you mean."
    "It would be unjust to reproach me with a crime that antedated my birth by some three or four hundred years, and with which I had nothing to do."
    "You need tell me nothing more; I know your story, and I also know what you have come for.''
    The young girl sank upon her knees, and, as she lifted her head and clasped hands, the hood of her mantle fell upon her shoulders and fully disclosed a face of surpassing loveliness. Her beautiful blond hair was parted in the middle of her head, and fell in long curls on either side, framing a face of perfect oval. Her forehead, of a clear white, was made still more dazzling by eyes, eyebrows and lashes of black; the nose was straight but sensitive, moving with the slight trembling of her cheeks, which showed traces of the many tears she had shed; her lips, half parted, seemed sculptured from rose coral, and behind them her teeth gleamed faintly like pearls. Her neck, as white as snow and as smooth as satin, was lost in the folds of a black

    dress that came close up to the throat, but whose folds re vealed the graceful outlines of her body. She was mag nificent.
    "Yes, yes," said Schneider, "you are beautiful, and you have the beauty, the grace, and the seduction of the ac cursed races. But we are not Asiatics, to be seduced by the beauty of a Helen or a Eoxelane. Your father conspires, your father is guilty, your father must die."
    The young girl uttered a cry as though the words had been a dagger that had pierced her heart.
    "Oh! no! my father is not a conspirator," she cried.
    "If he is not a conspirator, why did he emigrate?"
    "He emigrated because, belonging to the Prince de Conde, he thought he ought to follow him into exile; but, faithful to his country as he was to his prince, he would not fight against France, and during his two years of exile his sword has hung idle in its scabbard.''
    '' What was he doing in France, and why did he cross the Ehine?"
    4 ' Alas! my mourning will answer you, citizen Commis sioner. My mother was dying on this side of the river, scarcely twelve miles away; the man in whose arms she had passed twenty happy years was anxiously awaiting a word that might bid him hope again. Each message said: 'Worse! worse! Still worse!' Day before yesterday he could bear it no longer, and, disguised as a peasant, he crossed the river with the boatman. Doubtless the re ward tempted him, and he, God forgive him! denounced my father, who was arrested only this evening. Ask your agents when—just as my mother died. Ask them what he was doing—he was weeping as he closed her eyes. Ah! if ever it were pardonable to return from exile, it is when a man does so to bid a last adieu to the mother of his chil dren. You will tell me that the law is inexorable, and that every emigrant who returns to France