Mr. Dumany's entrance interrupted our painful conversation. He came on the pretence that letters and newspapers had arrived for me, and with that he handed me a copy of the _Hon_.
"But I had them addressed to the Hôtel d'Espagne," I said.
"They have been already informed that you are here," he answered; and then, turning to his wife, he said--
"Have you drunk deep enough of the bitter cup? or do you thirst for more of its contents?"
His voice was soft and tender, and the wife threw both her arms around the husband's neck, and, burying her face on his breast, she wept bitterly.
I took my journal, and, without making my excuses to the lady, I silently stole out of the room.
At dinner I was punctual, but nevertheless the two gentlemen of whom Mr. Dumany and his wife had spoken were already present and discussing the question of Mr. Dumany's munificent offer. After a hurried introduction I was soon informed of all that had been agreed on. The Secretary of State had received bonds for 1,000,000 francs, to be taken by the two Governments, the French and the Swiss, for distribution among the injured or maimed of the Rossberg catastrophe and the poor dependents of the slain. The old railroad watchman, who had been discharged by the company, and the canny shepherd, who both sold and kept his goats when he ran for the relief train, each received 10,000 francs, and a considerable sum went to the officials of the relief train as a remuneration for their services. The rest of the million francs was set aside for a memorial chapel on the site of the accident, and for the celebration of masses and a grand requiem in the church of St Germain l'Auxerrois on the following day--a ceremony which was to be repeated annually.
I have forgotten to mention that although the dinner was sumptuous, and the dishes and wines were excellent, yet it was as stately, solemn, and unsociable a meal as a funeral banquet, and Mrs. Dumany presided in deep mourning. The only jewel she wore was a large cross studded with dark-blue diamonds, only recognisable as such by the rays of blue, yellow, red, and green light which darted from them. This cross was suspended on a chain of black beads resembling a rosary, and giving to the black-robed figure the appearance of an abbess. The Spanish lace mantilla which she had thrown over her beautiful hair served as the veil, and made the resemblance perfect.