Overcome with horror, half mad, Jacques fled.
XXIX.
M. Folgat had just risen. Standing before his mirror, hung up to one of
the windows in his room, he had just finished shaving himself, when the
door was thrown open violently, and old Anthony appeared quite beside
himself.
"Ah, sir, what a terrible thing!"
"What?"
"Run away, disappeared!"
"Who?"
"Master Jacques!"
The surprise was so great, that M. Folgat nearly let his razor drop: he
said, however, peremptorily,--
"That is false!"
"Alas, sir," replied the old servant, "everybody is full of it in town.
All the details are known. I have just seen a man who says he met master
last night, about eleven o'clock, running like a madman down National
Street."
"That is absurd."
"I have only told Miss Dionysia so far, and she sent me to you. You
ought to go and make inquiry."
The advice was not needed. Wiping his face hastily, the young advocate
went to dress at once. He was ready in a moment; and, having run down
the stairs, he was crossing the passage when he heard somebody call his
name. He turned round, and saw Dionysia making him a sign to come into
the boudoir in which she was usually sitting. He did so.
Dionysia and the young advocate alone knew what a desperate venture
Jacques had undertaken the night before.
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