The terrible anxiety betrayed by the tone in which Mary said the words, the agitation of her face as she awaited the answer, which seemed to be one of life or death to her, were noticed with curiosity by Courtin, on whose lips flickered a diabolical smile. He took pleasure in delaying his answer in order to prolong the young girl's anguish.
"No, no!" he said at last, "don't be uneasy; he'll get over it!"
"Get over it! is he wounded?" asked Mary, vehemently.
"Didn't you know it?"
"Oh, my God! my God! Wounded!" cried Mary, with her eyes full of tears.
"Pooh!" said Courtin, "his wound won't keep him long in bed or hinder his marriage!"
Mary felt that she turned pale in spite of herself. Courtin's words reminded her that she had not asked news of her sister.
"And Bertha?" she said, "you have told me nothing about her."
"Your sister? Ha! she's a dashing girl! When she hooks her arm into her husband's she may well say she has earned him."
"But she is not ill, she is not wounded, is she?"