He rose to
his feet, drank off a few mouthfuls of undiluted whiskey, filled a flask
and put it in his pocket. Then he found his pistols, and put on his
greatcoat, muffler and cap, before he spoke a word.
Christine stood watching him intently.
"What are you going to do, Tom?" she said quietly. "I am going to save
your brother, if I can," was his reply, as he handed her Nic's letter.
CHAPTER XIX
Half an hour later, as Ferrol was passing from Louis Lavilette's stables
into the road leading to the Seigneury he met Sophie Farcinelle, face to
face. In a vague sort of way he was conscious that a look of despair and
misery had suddenly wasted the bloom upon her cheek, and given to the
large, cow-like eyes an expression of child-like hopelessness. An apathy
had settled upon his nerves. He saw things as in a dream. His brain
worked swiftly, but everything that passed before his eyes was, as it
were, in a kaleidoscope, vivid and glowing, but yet intangible. His
brain told him that here before him was a woman into whose life he had
brought its first ordeal and humiliation. But his heart only felt a
reflective sort of pity: it was not a personal or immediate realisation,
that is, not at first.
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