Page:Maud Howe - Atlanta in the South.djvu/32

 jealous mastiff caught at her hand and bit the small fingers till the blood started. She did not seem to heed the pain, but the action was not lost upon her. With a faint moan she sank upon the floor, and lay there weeping and dishevelled, while the mastiff took up the note of grief with his low howl of pain.

Philip Rondelet, gentlest among men, took pity on this broken creature, whom the other men heeded as little as they did the dog, and got her finally into the lower room. She was passive in his hands, but sank again grovelling to the earth, her glorious hair falling about her, her rich dress and jewels lighting up the dark hovel. Soon the young surgeon and Jean followed them. The latter spoke to her less roughly than before, but with a scornful pity scarcely less hard to bear. At the sound of his voice the woman arose, silent and patient.

"Therese, you must go back to the city with the doctors. There is nothing more for either them or you to do. Launce and I will stay with him till they come to take him away. Remember, you are to know nothing of this till you hear the news from outside. It will be bad for you if you let fall anything that you have seen."

She nodded silently.

"For his sake," he went on, "it must never be known how and in what a cause he died.