His brother. Slowly he tore the letter in two, the halves into
quarters, the quarters into infinitesimal squares. He took a pinch of
them and extended his arm, dropping the particles of paper upon the
current of the wind. They rose, fell, eddied, swam, and rose again,
finally to fall on the roofs below. Again and again he repeated this
act, till not a single square remained in his hand. His brother. He
re-entered the room, shouldered his pack, and passed from the château.
The dream of empire was gone; the day of expiation was begun. Later he
was seen making his way toward the parapet.
The Chevalier and madame continued to gaze toward the south, toward the
scene of the great catastrophe of their lives. They had been talking
it over again: the journey through the forest, the conflict at the hut,
the day in the hills.
"Peace," said madame.
"Peace and love," said the Chevalier.
"And that poor father of yours! But you forgave him?"
"Yes."
"And Jehan will not tell you who Sister Benie was?"
"No. And he appears so terrified when I mention the matter that I
shall make no further inquiries."
"And Brother Jacques?"
"Faith, he puzzles me. It was like enough the reaction. You recall
how infrequently he spoke during that journey, how little he ate or
slept. Ah well, there are no more puzzles, questions, problems or
hardships. Peace has come. We shall return to France in the spring."
"If thou faint in the day of adversity," she said, taking his hand and
pressing it lovingly against her cheek. "I love you."
"Here comes Brother Jacques," he said. "He is coming toward us. Ah,
he carries a pack."
The Chevalier greeted him gravely, and madame smiled.
"Whither bound?" asked the Chevalier.
Brother Jacques pointed toward the forest. "Yonder, where the beast is
and the savage."
"Now?"
"Even to-day." Then Brother Jacques placed a hand on the Chevalier's
shoulder and looked long and steadily into his eyes. "Farewell, my
brother," he said; "farewell." He turned and left them.
The Chevalier took madame's hand and kissed it.
"How strangely," she said, following with her eyes the priest's
diminishing figure; "how strangely he said 'my brother'!"
A scrap of white paper fluttered past them. She made as though to
catch it, but it eluded her, and was gone.