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Updated: June 14, 2025
"I cannot certify that they were his words," replied Briquet, who seemed to take a pleasure in teazing the cavalier. "Well, then, those they attribute to him." "They assert that he has confessed that he conspired for M. de Guise." "Against the king, of course?" "No; against the Duc d'Anjou." "If he confessed that " "Well?" "Well, he is a poltroon!" said the cavalier, frowning.
I strike my briquet, and there is a Boche's face all frozen and earthy and dead and greeny-white in the flame from my briquet." "Oh, no!" "Oh! but yes, mademoiselle; true as I sit here. Very useful in the parapet dead Boche. Once a man like me. But in the morning I could not stand him; we dug him out and buried him, and filled the hole up with other things.
"How modest and amiable he is!" said Gorenflot. "On the contrary," whispered Chicot, "he is stupid with vanity. At his age I would have given anything for such a lesson," and he sat down again. Jacques approached him, and admiration triumphing over the shame of defeat: "Will you give me some lessons, M. Briquet?" said he; "the prior will permit it, will you not, your reverence?"
Well! we shall see," and piercing through the crowd, he opened his door, went upstairs, and appeared at his balcony, in which he placed a chair and sat down. "Gentlemen," said he, "are you sure there is no mistake? is all this really for me?" "Are you M. Robert Briquet?" "Himself." "Then we are at your service, monsieur," said the leader of the band, giving the sign to recommence.
"Yes, monseigneur." "And who sends him?" "The king, with a letter." "What is his name?" "Robert Briquet; he is a great friend of Gorenflot's." "And an ambassador of the king's?" "Yes; I am sure of it; for he sent one of our monks to the Louvre to fetch the letter." "And he did not show you the letter?" "The king did not give it to him; he sent it by his own messenger." "We must have this letter."
I am a friend, you know." "True. It is 'Parma and Lorraine!" "And they will open?" "Yes." "Thanks; now return to your friends." Briquet took some steps as if to go out, and then stopped to explore the locality. The result of his observations was, that the vault ran parallel to the exterior wall, and terminated in a hall destined for the mysterious council from which he had been excluded.
The gates were thrown open, and then horses, mules, and carts, men, women, and children, pressed into Paris, at the risk of suffocating each other, and in a quarter of an hour all the crowd had vanished. Robert Briquet remained until the last. "I have seen enough," said he: "would it be very advantageous to me to see M. Salcede torn in four pieces? No, pardieu!
Chicot knew that before being warmed by two or three bottles of old Burgundy, Gorenflot was sparing of his words; and so, considering the time of the morning, it was probable that he was still fasting, Chicot sat down to wait. "Will you breakfast with me, M. Briquet?" asked Gorenflot. "Perhaps."
Robert Briquet turned toward the speaker, whose voice had a strong Gascon accent, and saw a young man from twenty to twenty-five, resting his hand on the crupper of the horse of the first speaker. His head was bare; he had probably lost his hat in the melée. "But as they say," replied Briquet, "that this Salcede belongs to M. de Guise " "Bah! they say that!"
But what do you mean, M. Briquet?" "Nothing, but that I set out on a journey, and that I have come to make you my adieux; so, good-by." "You shall not leave me thus." "I must." "A friend!" "In grandeur one has no friends." "Chicot!" "I am no longer Chicot; you reproached me with my false position just now." "But you must not go without eating; it is not wholesome." "Oh! you live too badly here."
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