There is always a man in a father. He walked
about a long time, and when he came in to supper he took delight for
the rest of the evening in watching his daughter in the midst of the
soft brown poesy with which he had surrounded her; and when, before
she went to bed, they all--the grandmother, the nurse, the doctor, and
Gabrielle--knelt together to say their evening prayer, he added the
words,--
"Let us pray to God to bless my enterprise."
The eyes of the grandmother, who knew his intentions, were moistened
with what tears remained to her. Gabrielle's face was flushed with
happiness. The father trembled, so much did he fear some catastrophe.
"After all," his mother said to him, "fear not, my son. The duke would
never kill his grandchild."
"No," he replied, "but he might compel her to marry some brute of a
baron, and that would kill her."
The next day Gabrielle, mounted on an ass, followed by her nurse on
foot, her father on his mule, and a valet who led two horses laden
with baggage, started for the castle of Herouville, where the caravan
arrived at nightfall.
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