Hardly had Madame George pronounced these words, than the Schoolmaster started; his scarred face became pale under its cicatrices; he arose, and turned his head so quickly toward the mother of Germain, that she could not refrain from a cry of horror, although she did not know who he was. The Schoolmaster had recognized the voice of his wife, and the words of Madame George told him that she had spoken to his son!
"What is the matter, mother?" cried Germain.
"Nothing, son; but the movement of this man, the expression of his face—all this has frightened me. Pardon my weakness," added she, addressing the doctor, "I almost regret having yielded to my curiosity in accompanying my son."
"Oh! for once, mother—there is nothing to regret."
"Very sure am I that our good mother will never return here, nor we either, my little Germain," said Rigolette: "it is too affecting."
"You are a little coward!" said Germain, smiling: "is not my wife a little coward, doctor?"
"I confess," answered the doctor, "that the sight of this unhappy blind and dumb man has made a strong impression upon me—who have seen so much distress."
"What a sight, old darling!" whispered Anastasia.
"Well! in comparison with you, all men appear to me as ugly as this frightful madman. It is on this account that no one can boast of—you comprehend, my Alfred?"
"Anastasia, I shall dream of that face, it is certain—I shall have the nightmare."