United States or Saint Lucia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
What do I care about something that a queer lot of saints did hundreds of years ago in times of plague and famine? Saints must have been poky people, and it is poky people who care to read about them, I think. I like reading about brave, heroic men and beautiful women, and war and love." Pere Beret looked away with a curious expression in his face, his eyes half closed.
The instant she saw him hurt and bleeding, his countenance relaxing and pale, her heart failed her. She took a step toward him, her hand opened, and with a thud the heavy old pistol fell upon the ground beside her. Father Beret sprang nimbly to sustain Farnsworth, snatching up the pistol as he passed around Alice. "You are hurt, my son," he gently said, "let me help you."
He sprang to his feet and appeared confused, as if caught in doing something very improper. Rene wondered at this unusual behavior, but merely said: "I beg pardon, Father Beret, I did not mean to disturb you," and went his way.
"Good " I said to myself "I shall see now at last this maniac with a taste for darned petticoats!" The pipe smoked peacefully, steadily on. The beret was motionless. Between the pipe and the cap was a man's profile; it was too much in shadow to be clearly defined. The next instant the man's face was in full sunlight.
"That was all there was to see." "A priest! Some of the men say the devil. I wonder " Hamilton hesitated and looked at the floor. "This Father Beret, he is too old for such a thing, isn't he?" "I have thought of him it was like him but he is, as you say, very old to be so tremendously strong and active.
Gaspard Roussillon actually dragged Father Beret and Lieutenant Beverley one at a time out of the eddy water and up the steep river bank. That was truly a great feat; but the hero never explained. When men arrived he was standing between the collapsed forms, panting and dripping.
Of course it was Oncle Jason, "Oncle Jazon sui generis," as Father Beret had dubbed him. "Well, here I am!" he cried, approaching the fire by which Colonel Clark and some of his officers were cooking supper, "but ye can't guess in a mile o' who I am to save yer livers and lights."
"I'll return in a minute or two," she called back from a region which Pere Beret well knew was that of the pantry; "don't get impatient and go away!" Pere Beret laughed softly at the preposterous suggestion that he would even dream of going out in the rain, which was now roaring heavily on the loose board roof, and miss a cut of cherry pie a cherry pie of Alice's making!
"It is but a rapier that I am going to clean of rust spots that are gathering on its blade." "Is it yours, Father? Let me see it." He held out his hand. "No, not mine." Father Beret seemed not to notice Farnsworth's desire to handle the weapon, and the young man, instead of repeating his words, reached farther, nearly grasping the scabbard.
The fear of what Hans Haugen might think of her, the shame of her own weakness and stupidity, had so occupied her mind that they had left no room for anything else. But now things suddenly changed round, and she could think of nothing but her parents. Beret again tried to comfort her.
Word Of The Day