"
"If I could only foresee--if I could only arrange," he said
piteously. "God knows I have done what I think is best for
you, my child, and yet--who knows what may come of it?
Madelon," he went on in a faint, pleading, broken voice, "you
will not let them make you think ill of me, and blame and
despise me when I am dead? They will try perhaps, but you must
always love me, my darling, as you do now; it must not be all
in vain--all that I have been striving for--ah, don't cry--there--
we won't talk any more now--another time."
There was a minute's silence in the darkening twilight;
Madelon's face was hidden in her father's shoulder, as he lay
there with his arm still round her and his eyes closed, faint
and exhausted. All of a sudden he roused himself with a start.
"Ah, I am dying!" he cried, with a hoarse voice, "and it is
all dark! Light the candles, Madelon--light them quickly, I
must see you once more before I die!"
Startled, awe-struck, only half realizing the meaning of his
words, Madelon slid off the bed and prepared to obey. At that
moment there came a tremendous knocking at the door of the
room, and a voice half chanting, half shouting,--
"Are you here, my friend? Are you within to-night? Can one
enter? Open quick; it is I, it is your friend! Are you ready
for your little revenge? I am ready, for my part; I will give
it to you--yes, with pleasure--yes, with an open heart!"
"It is Legros!" cried M.
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