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I Will Repay

Chapter VII. A warning
Sir Percy bowed very low, with all the graceful flourish and elaborate gesture the
eccentric customs of the time demanded.
He had not said a word, since the first exclamation of warning, with which he had
drawn his friend's attention to the young girl in the doorway.
Noiselessly, as she had come, Juliette glided out of the room again, leaving
behind her an atmosphere of wild flowers, of the bouquet she had gathered, then
scattered in the woods.
There was silence in the room for awhile. Déroulède was locking up his desk and
slipping the keys into his pocket.
"Shall we join my mother for a moment, Blakeney?" he said, moving towards the
door.
"I shall be proud to pay my respects," replied Sir Percy; "but before we close the
subject, I think I'll change my mind about those papers. If I am to be of service to
you I think I had best look through them, and give you my opinion of your
schemes."
Déroulède looked at him keenly for a moment.
"Certainly," he said at last, going up to his desk. "I'll stay with you whilst you read
them through."
"La! not to-night, my friend," said Sir Percy lightly; "the hour is late, and madame
is waiting for us. They'll be quite safe with me, and you'll entrust them to my
care."
Déroulède seemed to hesitate. Blakeney had spoken in his usual airy manner,
and was even now busy readjusting the set of his perfectly-tailored coat.
"Perhaps you cannot quite trust me?" laughed Sir Percy gaily. "I seemed too
lukewarm just now."
"No; it's not that, Blakeney!" said Déroulède quietly at last. "There is no mistrust
in me, all the mistrust is on your side."
"Faith!--" began Sir Percy.
"Nay! do not explain. I understand and appreciate your friendship, but I should
like to convince you how unjust is your mistrust of one of God's purest angels,
that ever walked the earth."
"Oho! that's it, is it, friend Déroulède? Methought you had foresworn the sex
altogether, and now you are in love."
"Madly, blindly, stupidly in love, my friend," said Déroulède with a sigh.
"Hopelessly, I fear me!"
"Why hopelessly?"
"She is the daughter of the late Duc de Marny, one of the oldest names in
France; a Royalist to the backbone..."
"Hence your overwhelming sympathy for the Queen!"
"Nay! you wrong me there, friend. I'd have tried to save the Queen, even if I had
never learned to love Juliette. But you see now how unjust were your
suspicions."
"Had I any?"
 
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