I wish I were with
him."
"Oh, that is you, is it?" said de Lescure, just turning to look at him,
and then hurrying away. But before he had moved on five paces, he
returned, and putting his pistol into his girdle, gave Adolphe his left
hand, and whispered to him:
"No one shall ever hear of it, Adolphe," said he, "and I will forget it.
Think of your Saviour in such moments, Adolphe, and your heart will not
fail you again."
The tears came into Denot's eyes as de Lescure left him. He felt that
he must be despised; he felt grateful for the promise which had been
given him, and yet he felt a kind of hatred for the man to whom he had
afforded an opportunity of forgiving him. He felt that he never could
like de Lescure again, never be happy in his company; he knew that de
Lescure would religiously keep his word, that he would never mention to
human being that horrid passage at the bridge; but he knew also that it
could never be forgotten. Adolphe Denot was not absolutely a coward; he
had not bragged that he would do anything which he knew it was contrary
to his nature to do, when he told Agatha that he would be the first to
place the white flag on the citadel of Saumur: he felt then all the
aspirations of a brave man; he felt a desire even to hurry into the
thick of the battle; but he had not the assured, sustained courage to
support him in the moment of extreme danger.
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