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This condition will be satisfied by poems on a smaller scale than the old epics, and answering in length to the group of tragedies presented at a single sitting. Epic poetry has, however, a great a special capacity for enlarging its dimensions, and we can see the reason.
Her circumstances were now very different. She had been shut up in prison for months, for six weeks at least she had been in irons, and the air of heaven had not blown upon this daughter of the fields; her robust yet sensitive maidenhood had been exposed to a hundred offences, and to the constant society, infecting the very air about, of the rudest of men; yet so far is her spirit from being broken that she meets all those potent, grave, and reverend doctors and ecclesiastics, with the simplicity and freedom of a princess, answering frankly or holding her peace as seems good to her, afraid of nothing, keeping her self-possession, all her wits about her as we say, without panic and without presumption.
I lost no time; afterwards I opened myself to M. d'Estampes, President of the Great Council, and to M. l'Ecuyer, President of the Chamber of Accounts, both colonels, and in great repute among the citizens, and I found them every way answering the character I had of them from the Count; that is, very zealous for his interest, and fully persuaded that the insurrection was not only practicable, but very easy.
But if Beatrice said disagreeable things, she said them in a pleasant voice and with a moderately civil expression of face, which constituted a concession, after all, considering how she had behaved ever since the night at Tragara, scarcely vouchsafing San Miniato a glance, answering him by monosyllables and hardly ever addressing him at all.
Just then, however, M. de Guersaint returned: "We merely have to go down the boulevard and the Rue Basse," said he. Pierre followed him without answering. He had just felt his cassock on his shoulders for the first time that afternoon, for never had it seemed so light to him as whilst he was walking about amidst the scramble of the pilgrimage.
He saw her start and flush when she saw him, her hands giving a little convulsive clutch at the reins; but she came on, looking straight ahead. Chad's hand went unconsciously to his cap, and when Harry rose, puzzled to see him bareheaded, the phaeton stopped, and there was a half-broken cry: "Harry!" Cap still in hand, Chad strode away as the brother, with an answering cry, sprang toward her.
The big man gave a short salute rather as acknowledging an inferior than answering an equal. "You have a message for me, Captain." "I can answer that question when I know who you are," said Ellerey. The big man laughed, with a glance at his companions, who laughed too, pleased to humor him. "You are a stranger in these hills, or you would know me. I am Vasilici."
"He has been attempting rather too much of late," was the answer, "and has knocked himself up. I came to tell you, because I think I had better stay with him, and perhaps you might miss me." "O no, no, pray go to him. Nothing satisfies me so well about him as that you should be there, except that I cannot bear to give you so much trouble. Don't stay here answering questions.
But I must speak to him, and soon, in reference to an important matter." "To what, then, do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here again? To confess the truth I did not hope for your return." "And why not?" "Excuse me from answering. No one likes to hear unpleasant things. If one of my profession thinks any one is not well...."
"There are many torches lit which need strong hands to carry them forward." Lois leaned across the table. As yet she had scarcely spoken, but she had listened intently to his every word. "Which of the sciences, Mr. Saton?" she asked, a little breathlessly. He smiled at her, and hesitated a moment before answering.
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