And some day I may
want you to do something for me. One thinks of one's self, eh? It
is good to make friends. For some day one may want them. That is
why I do it. I think of myself. An old soldier. Of the Guard."
With many gestures of tremendous import, and a face all wrinkled and
twisted with mystery, he returned to the kitchen.
Mathilde was not to return until late. She had gone to the house of
the old Grafin whose reminiscences had been a fruitful topic at
Desiree's wedding. After dining there she and the Grafin were to go
together to a farewell reception given by the Governor. For Rapp
was bound for the frontier with the rest, and was to go to the war
as first aide-de-camp to the Emperor.
Mathilde could not be back until ten o'clock. She, who was so quick
and quiet, had been much occupied in social observances lately, and
had made fast friends with the Grafin during the last few days,
constantly going to see her.
Desiree knew that what Barlasch had repeated as the gossip of the
cafes was in part, if not wholly, true. She and Mathilde had long
known that any mention of France had the instant effect of turning
their father into a man of stone. It was the skeleton in this quiet
house that sat at table with its inmates, a shadowy fourth tying
their tongues. The rattle of its bones seemed to paralyze
Sebastian's mind, and at any moment he would fall into a dumb and
stricken apathy which terrified those about him.
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