He sprang across the body,
lifted Blanche as if she had been a child and carried her out of the
house.
He was drunk with joy. Fears for the future no longer disquieted
him, now that Mme. Blanche was bound to him by the strongest of
chains--complicity in crime.
He saw himself on the threshold of a life of ease and continual
feasting. Remorse for Lacheneur's betrayal had ceased to trouble him. He
saw himself sumptuously fed, lodged and clothed; above all, effectually
guarded by an army of servants.
Blanche, who had experienced a feeling of deadly faintness, was revived
by the cool night air.
"I wish to walk," said she.
Chupin placed her on the ground about twenty paces from the house.
"And Aunt Medea!" she exclaimed.
Her relative was beside her; like one of those dogs who are left at the
door when their master enters a house, she had, instinctively followed
her niece on seeing her borne from the cottage by the old poacher.
"We must not stop to talk," said Chupin. "Come, I will lead the way."
And taking Blanche by the arm, he hastened toward the grove.
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