They sat down to dinner about three o'clock; but their dinner was, if
possible, a worse affair than their breakfast. They were not only sad,
but worn out and jaded with sorrow. The very servants, as they moved the
dishes, sobbed aloud; and at last, Momont, who had vainly attempted to
carry himself with propriety before the others, utterly gave way, and
throwing himself on to a chair in the salon, declared that nothing but
violence should separate him from his master.
"It is five-and-fifty years," said he, sobbing, "since I first waited
on Monseigneur. We were boys then, and now we are old men together It
is not natural that we should part. Where he goes, I will go. I will
cling to his carriage, unless they cut me down with swords."
No one could rebuke the old man--certainly not the master whom he loved
so well; and though they knew that it would be impossible to provide for
him, none of them at the moment had the heart to tell him so.
By degrees the daylight faded away, and for the last time, they watched
the sun sink down among the cherry trees of Durbelliere, and the
Marquis, seated by the window, gazed into the West till not a streak of
light was any longer visible; then he felt that the sun of this world
had set for him for good and all.
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