The many years of indifference and estrangement were
forgotten, the few years of childhood's confidence and comradeship alone
remembered, as he saw the words that brought him in his exile the story
of his brethren's fate and of his race's fortunes. His head sank, his
face was still colorless, he sat motionless with the printed sheet in
his hand. Once his eyes flashed, his breath came fast and uneven; he
rose with a sudden impulse, with a proud, bold instinct of birth and
freedom. Let him stand here in what grade he would, with the badge of
a Corporal of the Army of Africa on his arm, this inheritance that had
come to him was his; he bore the name and the title of his house as
surely as any had ever borne it since the first of the Norman owners of
Royallieu had followed the Bastard's banner.
The vagabond throngs--Moorish, Frank, Negro, Colon--paused as they
pushed their way over the uneven road, and stared at him vacantly where
he stood. There was something in his attitude, in his look, which swept
over them, seeing none of them, in the eager lifting of his head, in the
excited fire in his eyes, that arrested all--from the dullest muleteer,
plodding on with his string of patient beasts, to the most volatile
French girl laughing on her way with a group of fantassins. He did not
note them, hear them, think of them; the whole of the Algerine scene had
faded out as if it had no place before him; he had forgot that he was
a cavalry soldier of the Empire; he saw nothing but the green wealth of
the old home woods far away in England; he remembered nothing save that
he, and he alone, was the rightful Lord of Royallieu.
Pages:
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530