"It's frightful to think of; oh! Nanon, dear sister, in pity's name!"
"Not a word more, Roland. You understand me? The money is yours; make good use of it, for your poor Nanon will no longer be at hand to give you more, perforce or willingly."
"But what have I ever done for you that you should be so kind to me?"
"The only thing I could expect, the only thing I could have asked you to do, in bringing me what you did from Bordeaux the night that he died and I could not die."
"Ah! yes, I remember,—the lock of hair."
The adventurer hung his head; he felt an unfamiliar sensation in his eye, and put his hand to it.
"Another would weep," said he; "I do not know how to weep, but upon my soul, I suffer as much, if not more."
"Adieu, brother," said Nanon, offering him her hand.
"No, no, no!" said Cauvignac, "I will never say adieu to you of my free will. Is it fear that drives you into the convent? If so, we will leave Guyenne, and travel the world over together. I too have an arrow in my heart, which I shall carry with me wherever I go, and the pain it causes me will help me to sympathize with your pain. You will talk to me of him, and I will talk to you of Richon; you will weep, and perhaps I shall succeed in weeping too, and it will do me good. Would you like to go to some desert island? I will serve you, faithfully and with deep respect, for you are a saint. Would you like me to be a monk? I confess that I can't do that. But do not enter the convent, do not say adieu to me."
"Adieu, dear brother."