He moved away from the spot where the tree stood, noting the situation as he left the place.
“I’ll rebuild here,” he thought, “I, or my son.”
V
MARGARET’S BETROTHAL
HUBERT’S death had completely upset Maurice, breaking at last the pride that separated him from his family. Margaret, on her way home from bearing the sad news to him in prison, walked through the streets seeing nothing, shut up in her grief. At her own door she asked the servant:
“Has Mr. Roquevillard come in yet?”
She was hastening to her father’s comfort now as she had gone to Maurice’s, with that power of bearing up in moral sorrow which is less exceptional in a woman than in a man, and permitted her to be of comfort instead of breaking down.
“Not yet, Miss Margaret,” was the answer.
She was surprised, and began to be a little anxious.
“Not yet?”
And yet she had stayed a long time at the gaol, and evening was coming on. Mr. Roquevillard had gone out only for a short walk. He expected Mr. Hamel and Mr. Battard at five o’clock, to make the last arrangements with them for to-morrow’s trial. His prolonged absence under such circumstances was strange.