“Do I know Colonel Gandouin!” cried Raoul. “I know him only too well. I’ve had enough of him! I can’t bear the man!”
This outburst grieved Madame de Bonmont and startled M. Guitrel. Neither of them knew that four years before Colonel Gandouin, with six other officers, had ordered Captain Marcien to be placed on half-pay for habitual dereliction of duty, that offence, selected from many others, being the reason assigned.
From this moment the gentle Elizabeth gave up hoping that any good would come of the interview which she had arranged to calm her Raoul, to turn him away from thoughts of violence and bring him back to thoughts of love. She opened her heart, however, and in a tearful voice said to the Abbé:
“Don’t you think, M. l’Abbé, that when a man is young and has a fine future before him, he ought not to give way to discouragement and depression? Ought he not, on the contrary, to avoid all sad thoughts?”
“Certainly, Madame la Baronne, certainly,” replied M. l’Abbé Guitrel. “We must never give way to discouragement, or abandon ourselves to grief without cause. A good Christian never encourages gloomy thoughts, Madame la Baronne, that is quite certain.”
“Do you hear, M. Marcien?” asked Madame de Bonmont.
But Raoul did not hear, and so the conversation dropped. Then Madame de Bonmont, being a kind-hearted woman, and anxious in the midst of her own worries to give a little pleasure to M. Guitrel, turned the topic of conversation.
“And so, M. l’Abbé,” she said, “your favourite stone is the amethyst.”
Guessing the drift of her remark, the priest answered severely and even harshly:
“Do not speak of that, Madame, I beg. Do not speak of that!”