Brother Jacques's brows met in the effort to recall the significance of this name. Ah! the Grande Madame whom the Chevalier, his brother, loved: his brother. His brother. Brother Jacques had forgotten his brother. He raised his eyes toward heaven, as if to make an appeal; but his gaze dropped quickly and roved. Somehow, he could not look to heaven; the sun was too bright. He saw the figures of a man and woman who were leaning against the parapet. The man's arm was clasped around the woman's waist, their heads were close together, and they seemed to be looking toward the south, as indeed they were. Lovers, mused Brother Jacques. Why not he, too? Had not the marquis said that he was too handsome for a priest? Why should he not be a lover, likewise? A lover, indeed, when the one woman he loved was at this very hour praying in the Convent of the Ursulines! Presently the man below turned his head. It was the Chevalier. … This time, when Brother Jacques raised his eyes toward God, his gaze did not falter. He had cursed the author of his being, which was very close to cursing his God. There was before him, expiation. He smiled wanly.
His brother. Slowly he tore the letter in two, the halves into quarters, the quarters into infinitesimal squares. He took a pinch of them and extended his arm, dropping the particles of paper upon the current of the wind. They rose, fell, eddied, swam, and rose again, finally to fall on the roofs below. Again and again he repeated this act, till not a single square remained in his hand. His brother. He re-entered the room, shouldered his pack, and passed from the château. The dream of empire was gone; the day of expiation was begun. Later he was seen making his way toward the parapet.
The Chevalier and madame continued to gaze toward the south, toward the scene of the great catastrophe of their lives. They had been talking it over again: the journey through the forest, the conflict at the hut, the day in the hills.
"Peace," said madame.
"Peace and love," said the Chevalier.
"And that poor father of yours! But you forgave him?"
"Yes."
"And Jehan will not tell you who Sister Benie was?"
"No. And he appears so terrified when I mention the matter that I shall make no further inquiries."
"And Brother Jacques?"