"No doubt he is not especially prepossessed in favor of Monsieur Marteau, who has presumed to love you, and perhaps that accounts for his willingness to believe anything derogatory of him."
"He is blind, and I——"
"But you are not declining his hand on that account!"
"No, the marriage stands. I could wish that it did not," said the woman passionately. "I could be happier if he suspected me of anything, however base, and in his suspicion set me free."
"Hark ye, Laure," said the Marquis earnestly. "I am an old man, and the life I have led has not served to maintain my youth. What I am engaged in now does not conduce to that ease of body and peace of mind which promotes long life. To you I say what I have said to no one else. We are standing, as it were, on a volcano. The army is in no sense loyal to the King. I advised that it be disbanded absolutely, but I was overruled. It is seething with sedition. The envoys of the powers at Vienna are playing, idling, debating endlessly, and while they play and idle and talk in their fools' paradise, the Emperor, he who is so called by misguided France, will return. I should not be surprised at any moment to receive tidings that he has landed."
"And that is what they mean when they speak about the violets blooming again?"
"Yes, that is it. And, do you know as I walked in the garden this morning I found this."
He tossed the first tiny purple violet of the spring on the table before her.
"But he will be dead before the Emperor comes," murmured the woman, her hand upon her heart.
"Put that thought out of your mind, my child," said the old man. "Think rather of Captain Yeovil."