I was completely overwhelmed and astonished.
“My father would not let his blood be spilled like that!”
He was speaking again with that strange, desperate pride of his father.
“When my father wears a wig, it will fit! My father would not let his blood be spilled like that!”
“Bernier’s hands were covered with it and you yourself saw it upon the hand of the Lady in Black.”
“Yes, yes! That is true—that is true! But they could never kill my father like that!”
He seemed to grow more excited every moment and he never ceased gazing on the little wash drawing. At last he spoke, his breast shaken with a great sob.
“O, God! O God! O God, have pity on us! That would be too frightful!”
He ceased for a moment and then spoke again:
“My poor mother did not deserve this! I did not deserve it—nor any one in the world!” A tear ran down his cheek and fell into the little dish of paint.