"
"There, there!" cried the baroness. "He was Colonel Raynal, and Colonel
Raynal was not killed."
The doctor implored her not to interrupt.
"Go on, Camille. Why do you hesitate? what is the matter? Do for pity's
sake go on, sir."
Camille cast a look of agony around, and put his hand to his brow,
on which large drops of cold perspiration, like a death dew, were
gathering; but driven to the stake on all sides, he gasped on rather
than read, for his eye had gone down the page.
"A namesake of mine, Commandant Raynal,"--
"Ah!"
"has not been--so fortunate. He"--
"Go on! go on!"
The wretched man could now scarcely utter Raynal's words; they came from
him in a choking groan.
"he was killed, poor fellow! while heading a gallant charge upon the
enemy's flank."
He ground the letter convulsively in his hand, then it fell all crumpled
on the floor.
"Bless you, Camille!" cried the baroness, "bless you! bless you! I have
a son still."
She stooped with difficulty, took up the letter, and, kissing it again
and again, fell on her knees, and thanked Heaven aloud before them all.
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