"
Mathilde glanced at her father not without suspicion. His grand
manner might easily be at times a screen. One never knows how much
is perceived by those who look down from a high place.
The town was quiet enough all that night. Sebastian must have heard
the news from some unofficial source, for none other seemed to know
it. But at daybreak the church bells, so rarely used in Dantzig for
rejoicing, awoke the burghers to the fact that the Emperor bade them
make merry. Napoleon gave great heed to such matters. In the
churches of Lithuania and farther on in Russia he had commanded the
popes to pray for him at their altars instead of for the Czar.
When Desiree came downstairs, she found a packet awaiting her. The
courier had come in during the night. This was more than a letter.
A number of papers had been folded in a handkerchief and bound with
string. The address was written on a piece of white leather cut
from the uniform of one who had fallen at Borodino, and had no more
need of sabretasche or trapping.
"Madame Desiree Darragon--nee Sebastian,
Frauengasse 36,
Dantzig."
Desiree's heart stood still; for the writing was unknown to her. As
she cut the network of string, she thought that Charles was dead.
When the enclosed papers fell upon the table, she was sure of it;
for they were all in his writing. She did not pick and choose as
one would who has leisure and no very strong excitement, but took up
the first paper and read:
"Dear C.
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