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This is very blind on the part of the clericals, for it naturally turns the Protestants into martyrs. It happened in a little village, not far from Besancon, that, after a scene of this kind, all the village population turned into the cemetery, and, by the time the Prefet's order came, the Protestant pastor had a large audience for his discourse over the grave.
"I am entertaining the préfet for the souper du contrat," continued the Comte, quietly ignoring the old lady's irascibility of temper, "and the general in command of the garrison. They are both converted Bonapartists, remember." "Hm!" grunted Madame crossly, "whom else are you going to entertain?" "Mme. Fourier, the préfet's wife, and Mlle.
A marginal note in the Prefet's handwriting ran thus: "Orders have been sent by telegraph to Bibi-Lupin, chief of the Safety department, to return forthwith, to be confronted with the prisoner, as he is personally acquainted with Jacques Collin, whom he, in fact, arrested in 1819 with the connivance of a Mademoiselle Michonneau.
"My dear Monsieur Peyrade, I regret to find such a man as you the object of surveillance, and that you should act so as to justify it. Your disguise is not to the Prefet's taste. If you fancy that you can thus escape our vigilance, you are mistaken. You traveled from England by way of Beaumont-sur-Oise, no doubt." "Beaumont-sur-Oise?" repeated Peyrade. "Or by Saint-Denis?" said the sham lawyer.
But it's more than strange to me, because it is linked with my past life. Still, I won't tell it from my point of view. I'll begin with the Préfet's version. The "Wandering Jew" really is a Jew, of the best and most intellectual type. His name is Paul Herter. His father was a man of Metz, who had brought to German Lorraine a wife from Lunéville.
Perhaps something of what lay behind Madame's curt nod to him, struck the préfet's sensibilities, for the high colour suddenly fled from his round face, and he did not attempt to approach her for the ceremonial hand-kissing.
His brain was pursuing Dierdre O'Farrell, groping after her through the night. "If she went out before that air raid, while we were at the Préfet's," he suggested, "she may have had to take refuge somewhere she may have been hurt " "By Jove!" Puck broke in. "It scares me when you say that. You're a a sort of prophet, you know! I must find out what hospitals there are "
These girls, whose gravest interest a year ago had been the season's dances and the latest play, were determined to experience the thrill of sacrifice. So here they were in the doomed city, as the Red Cross officials said, "by luck" the very place where they were most needed. When I visited them, after leaving the Préfet's, they had not yet heard that they were to be allowed to stay.
We saw the church once a gymnasium and an immense cinema theatre, decorated by the ladies of Nancy, with the Préfet's wife and daughters at their head. On the way home we dropped into the biggest of Nancy's beautiful shops, to behold the work of last night's bombs.
We got very little country life during those years at the Foreign Office. Twice a year, in April and August, W. went to Laon for his Conseil-General, over which he presided, but he was rarely able to stay all through the session. He was always present on the opening day, and at the prefet's dinner, and took that opportunity to make a short speech, explaining the foreign policy of the Government.
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