The gray Brother made the sign of the cross upon the forehead of the
Bourgeois, who opened his eyes once for a moment, and looked in the
face of the good friar while his lips quivered with two inarticulate
words, "Pierre! Amelie!" That was all. His brave eyes closed
again forever from the light of the sun. The good Bourgeois
Philibert was dead.
"'Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord,'" repeated the Recollet.
"'Even so, saith the Spirit, for they rest from their labors.'"
De Pean had foreseen the likelihood of a popular commotion. He was
ready to fly on the instant, but could not prevail on Angelique
to leave Le Gardeur, who was kneeling down by the side of the
Bourgeois, lifting him in his arms and uttering the wildest accents
of grief as he gazed upon the pallid, immovable face of the friend
of his youth.
"That is the assassin, and the woman, too," cried a sturdy habitan.
"I heard her bid him draw his sword upon the Bourgeois."
The crowd for the moment believed that De Pean had been the murderer
of Philibert.
"No, not he; it was the other.
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