The squadron to which my ship
belonged experienced many vicissitudes during the passage, and several
times I gave up all hope of ever kneeling before Edmee under the great
oaks of Sainte-Severe. At last, after a final storm off the coast of
France, I set foot on the shores of Brittany, and fell into the arms
of my poor sergeant, who had borne our common misfortunes, if not with
greater physical courage, at least with a calmer spirit, and we mingled
our tears.
XVI
We set out from Brest without sending any letter to announce our coming.
When we arrived near Varenne we alighted from the post-chaise and,
ordering the driver to proceed by the longest road to Saint-Severe, took
a short cut through the woods. As soon as I saw the trees in the park
raising their venerable heads above the copses like a solemn phalanx of
druids in the middle of a prostrate multitude, my heart began to beat so
violently that I was forced to stop.
"Well," said Marcasse, turning round with an almost stern expression, as
if he would have reproached me for my weakness.
But a moment later I saw that his own face, too, was betraying
unexpected emotion. A plaintive whining and a bushy tail brushing
against his legs had made him start. He uttered a loud cry on seeing
Blaireau. The poor animal had scented his master from afar, and had
rushed forward with all the speed of his first youth to roll at his
feet.
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