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I appeared to give way to their persuasions, and, after hearing mass and taking a hasty dinner, I left my lodgings, escorted by two or three hundred armed citizens, some of them engaging Barlemont and Du Bois in conversation. We all took the way to the gate which opens to the river, and directly opposite to that leading to Namur.
All its mute appeal was understood. "Good-bye, then, Monsieur d'Aiglemont, we shall meet in the Bois de Boulogne."
Over the roofs of the outhouses rose scarlet Bois immortelles, and tall clumps of Bamboo reflecting blue light from their leaves even under a cloud; and beyond them and below them to the right, a park just like an English one carried stately trees scattered on the turf, and a sheet of artificial water.
Then Jim looked up at the wall which was paneled in some light wood and there his eyes saw something that gave him the clue. He straightened up and moved quickly towards the ghostly figure. "How are you, Brian de Bois Guilbert?" he said as he came up. "I should like to borrow your suit of armor if you don't mind." The audacity of James.
On our left, the nearer mountain woods rushed into the sea, cutting off the view, and under our very feet, in the centre of an amphitheatre of wood, as the eye of the whole picture, was a group such as I cannot hope to see again. Out of a group of scarlet Bois Immortelles rose three Palmistes, and close to them a single Balata, whose height I hardly dare to estimate.
She loved to rend, to bite, as it were, not for amusement but to satisfy a craving. Madame de Mortsauf would have hidden her happiness from every eye, Lady Dudley chose to exhibit hers to all Paris; and yet with her impenetrable English mask she kept within conventions even while parading in the Bois with me.
The River Des Layes runs behind Neuve Chapelle to the southeast; and, behind the river, a half mile from the straggling village, is a wood known as the Bois du Biez. Almost at right angles to the river, on the west, the main road from Estaires to La Bassée skirts Neuve Chapelle. There is a triangle of roads north of the village where there were a few large houses with walls, gardens, and orchards.
A number of officers in white uniforms rode by, going towards the chateau, and a company of coureurs de bois came up from Mountain Street, singing: "Giron, giran! le canon grand Commencez-vous, commencez-vous!" Here and there were fires lighted in the streets, though it was not cold, and beside them peasants and soldiers drank and quarreled over food for starvation was abroad in the land.
"NOW it's coming," said the Major, with a grin: "her husband is jealous, I suppose, and there is a talk of the Bois de Boulogne: my dear sir, you can't refuse can't refuse." "It's not that," said Pogson, wagging his head passionately. "Her husband the Baron seemed quite as much taken with Pogson as his lady was, and has introduced him to some very distingue friends of his own set.
We might drive home that way." "An excellent idea," said the other man. "The fact that Montmartre lies in an opposite direction from home makes the plan all the better. And after that we might drive home through the Bois. That's much farther in the wrong direction. Lead on!"
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