Gaston left the conservatory, his heart bounding with joy. The enormous weight which had oppressed him since the commencement of the conspiracy, and which Helene's love had scarcely been able to alleviate, now seemed to disappear as at the touch of an angel.
To dreams of vengeance, dreams both terrible and bloody, succeeded visions of love and glory. Helene was not only a charming and a loving woman, she was also a princess of the blood royalone of those divinities whose tenderness men would purchase with their hearts' blood, if they did not, being after all weak as mortals, give this inestimable tenderness away.
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