She was amongst them,
and it seemed to her she had just won a great heap of gold;
but when she tried to get it, Aunt Therese, in the character
of croupier, refused to let her touch it. "It is mine; is it
not, papa?" she cried to somebody standing at her side; and
then looking up, saw it was Monsieur Horace; he did not speak,
but gazing at her for a moment, shook his head, and moved away
slowly into the gloom. And then the nuns and Aunt Therese also
seemed to vanish, and she was left alone with the tables and
the money, in the midst of which lay a long figure covered
with a sheet, as she had seen her father the night that he had
died. She did not think of that, however, but ran eagerly up
to the table to take her winnings, when the figure moved, a
hand was put out to seize the gold, and the sheet falling off,
Madelon recognized her dead father's face.
With a shriek she awoke, and sprang up, shivering and
trembling with cold and fright--all the terrors of the night
suddenly come upon her. She looked round; all was as it had
been when she went to sleep; the lonely road, the dark fields,
the trees and hedges; but a breeze had sprung up before the
dawn, and was rustling the leaves and branches; overhead a
star or two was shining in dark rifts, and in the east a
melancholy waning moon was slowly rising, half obscured by
scattered clouds.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362