but, my sight becomes again obscured when I think of it."—
"For heaven's sake," said Edmond, "what is it? assuredly some dreadful wickedness of the rebels, fire-brands and murder, or poison"—"No, young man," continued the Marshal, somewhat tranquillized, "against such things I am secure,—my Fleury, the luckless man, my valet, who in other respects is cleverness and dexterity itself, this man at a sign from me (for he only waits upon me and therefore the affair is the more incomprehensible) was handing the salt, and while I was taking it, he entirely upset the saltcellar before me; a mist came over my eyes, I was compelled to go to bed, having discharged my valet, and come here to find consolation and tranquillity."
Edmond, who turned away with the greater shame and vexation, the more he had been excited by the narrative; could not sustain the fiery regards of the Marshal, who, in seeking to arouse sympathy, fixed his eyes
