The Russian ports and Swedish ports are open to us
now."
"One is glad to hear that your life is one of less hardship," said
Sebastian gravely. "I . . . . who have tasted it."
Desiree glanced at his lean, hard face. She rose, went out of the
room, and returned in a few minutes carrying a new loaf which she
set on the table before him with a short laugh, and something
glistening in her eyes that was not mirth.
But neither Desiree nor Mathilde joined in the conversation. They
were glad for their father to have a companion so sympathetic as to
produce a marked difference in his manner. For Sebastian was more
at ease with Louis d'Arragon than he was with Charles, though the
latter had the tie of a common fatherland, and spoke the same French
that Sebastian spoke. D'Arragon's French had the roundness always
imparted to that language by an English voice. It was perfect
enough, but of an educated perfection.
The talk was of such matters as concerned men more than women; of
armies and war and treaties of peace. For all the world thought
that Alexander of Russia would be brought to his knees by the battle
of Borodino. None knew better how to turn a victory to account than
he who claimed to be victor now. "It does not suffice," Napoleon
wrote to his brother at this time, "to gain a victory. You must
learn to turn it to advantage."
Save for the one reference to his life in the Baltic during the past
two months, D'Arragon said nothing of himself, of his patient,
dogged work carried on by day and by night in all weathers.
Pages:
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135