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The servant was released. You see that the guilty are always punished." Grivet triumphed. Olivier sneered. "Then, they put the magpie in prison," said he. "That is not what M. Grivet meant to say," answered Camille, annoyed to see his chief turned into ridicule. "Mother, give us the dominoes."
He stooped close to her to catch her words. "This is a strange end, François. I always thought I should die in a bed. Here is another kind of battlefield. Give me drink." "Some water," Villon cried to Olivier, who stood a little apart from the pair with the resigned look of the physician who knows that his art is of no avail. Huguette protested faintly. "Not water. Wine.
The Count Olivier was yet speaking when lo! the column which bare the vault opened. The pillar was hollow and contrived in such sort that a man could lie hid therein at his ease to see and hear everything. Charlemagne and the twelve Counts had never a notion of this; so they were sore surprised to behold the King of Constantinople step forth. He was white with anger and his eyes flashed fire.
The Countess, annoyed, said to her daughter: "You know that your father is waiting for you." "Yes, mamma, I am going." She ran away, still throwing kisses from the tips of her fingers. As soon as she had gone, Olivier asked: "Will they travel?" "Yes, for three months." "So much the better," he murmured in spite of himself. "We will resume our former life," said the Countess.
They held their peace. "Fifty sols for the robes of our valets, and twelve livres for the mantles of the clerks of our crown! That's it! Pour out gold by the ton! Are you mad, Olivier?" As he spoke thus, the old man raised his head. The golden shells of the collar of Saint-Michael could be seen gleaming on his neck. The candle fully illuminated his gaunt and morose profile.
Whilst we were reconnoitring the mountain from the south, we saw three horsemen coming cautiously out of the camp, riding in a north-easterly direction, and thus giving us no chance to intercept them. Commandant Olivier and Captain Potgieter now made a détour, so that they could cut off the unsuspecting scouts from their camp, and could also get nearer to the mountain themselves.
"Olivier behaved inhumanly, but one way or another he did settle the question, while I have settled nothing and have only made it worse," he thought, gazing at the dark figure that looked like a ghost. "He said and did what he thought right while I say and do what I don't think right; and I don't know really what I do think. . . ."
The wretched culprit was her sweetheart, and now she is crying and howling, and screaming over and over again that Olivier is innocent quite innocent; but she knows all about this crime, and I must have her taken to prison too." As he spoke he cast one of his baleful, malignant looks at the girl, which made Mademoiselle Scuderi shudder.
He trembled whenever he saw Christophe leave them, for it seemed to him that his presence was his only safeguard against the blow which threatened to fall upon him. It was not that Jacqueline loved Olivier less. Rather she was more in love with him, and it was that that made her hostile.
He, paying no heed to this, came up to me, smiling at me with a calmness and urbanity which increased my inward horror. He drew forward an old rickety stool, and sat down beside me; for I was unable to rise from my straw bed, where I had thrown myself. 'Well, Olivier, he began, 'how is it with you, my poor boy? I really was too hasty in turning you out of doors. I miss you at every turn.
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