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Then came the artillery, and with the loss of thirty men succeeded in placing their petards under the gate. The shot whistled like a whirlwind of iron round Henri's head, and twenty men fell in an instant before his eyes. "Forward!" cried he, and rushed on through the midst of the fire, and arrived just as the soldiers had fired the first petard.
Arousing cheer drowned the end of the reading of this bulletin, the tenor of which gave to Henri's aspiraitions an immediate and more advantageous prospect immediate, because, as his company was the first to march, he was assured of not remaining longer at the garrison; more advantageous, because the dangers of a foreign expedition opened a much larger field for his chances of promotion.
One understood now how she had fallen into Dangeau's hands, and how, inevitably, he had tired, and tossed her aside like a wilted flower. And now she was facing slow starvation Oh, damn! Peter slipped some change into Henri's palm. "You are a man of sense, Henri. Also, I see that you have a good heart," said he.
A woman who is not engraven upon the soul by excess of pleasure or by strength of emotion, how can she ever be loved? In Henri's case, Paquita had established herself by both of these reasons.
He had anxieties enough just now without being reminded by the touch of a woman's hand of all that he had lost. Long before that Sara Lee had learned not to question Jean about Henri's absences. Even his knowledge, now, that she knew something of Henri's work, did not remove the barrier. So Sara Lee waited, as did Jean, but more helplessly.
"We must not make a noise," her companion said, "and then we can go into the wood, and sit down close to it." The skiff seemed to glide. They saw the trees on the island, whose banks were so low, that they could look into the depths of the thickets. They stopped, he made the boat fast, Henriette took hold of Henri's arm, and they went beneath the trees.
Your recovery will, I trust, be the means of preserving your poor mother's life, for she has, I fear, a great grief in store for her; for, although she hoped for the best, I cannot but see that your poor brother Henri's days are numbered." I need not repeat what more my father said. Taking Dick in the carriage, we drove rapidly home.
As the priest remarked, blasting powder was not the best, but it was good enough to treat republicans with at any rate they could get no better, and it was lucky that they chanced to have that. Charles de Lescure shuddered, as he. saw the dangerous employment on which his sister was engaged; but Henri's sister was doing the same thing, and he knew that dangerous times for all of them were coming.
The words, "You are a good little lad," sent a warm glow of pleasure through him, and rang like music in his ears all the way down the lane. How bright the world looked this frosty December morning! What cheeriness there was in the ring of Henri's axe as he chopped away at the stove-wood! What friendliness in the baker's whistle, as he rattled by in his big cart!
He, with less of wisdom, having seized the floating scull abandoned by Count Henri, and got it ready for the stroke, said a word of condolence to the dripping man. Count Henri's shoulders and neck expressed a kind of negative that, like a wet dog's shake of the head, ended in an involuntary whole length shudder, dog-like and deplorable to behold.
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