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Updated: June 15, 2025
We occupied the lines stretching from L'Hérault to Damies." The French officer nodded assent, and Bubbleton resumed. "The Fusiliers were on the right, and divided into two parties, an assaulting column and a supporting one; the advanced companies at half cannon-shot from the walls, the others a little farther off.
It was Darby M'Keown, and he brought me nothing less precious than De Meudon's pocket-book, which had been taken from me, and had been picked up by him on the road. A few minutes later Bubbleton lost a sum at cards to Crofts; knowing he could not pay, I passed a note quietly to him. When Bubbleton had gone, Crofts held up the note before me. It was a French note of De Meudon's!
"Would that her brother was favored with some of these lucid intervals!" was the thought that ran through my head at the moment; for I knew better than he did how needful a clearer brain and sharper faculties than his would be to escape the snares his folly and vanity were spreading around him. "Shall we make a morning call at our friend the countess's, Tom?" said Bubbleton.
I remembered it of old, when Bubbleton and his brother officers came there; and when the rooms were thronged with members of both Houses of Parliament, when peers and gentlemen of the first families were grouped about the windows and fireplaces, and the highest names of the land were heard in the din of recognition; handsome equipages and led horses stood before the doors.
Duchesne's story had unfortunately driven all memory of Bubbleton out of my head; and it was only as we entered the street where the Duchesse de Montserrat lived that I remembered my friend, and thought of asking the chevalier's advice about him.
Although the party, with the exception of Bubbleton, were French, he himself, as was his wont, supported nearly the whole of the conversation; and if his French was none of the most accurate, he amply made up in volubility for all accidents of grammar.
As this seemed a somewhat curious legacy from one brother officer to another, we could not help calling on the general for an explanation, a demand Bubbleton never refused to gratify. "It happened in this wise," said he, pushing back his chair as he spoke, and seating himself with the easy attitude of your true story-teller.
"She knows that," said Bubbleton, with a nod, as if grateful for even so much testimony in his favor. "And as for that scoundrel, Thistlethwait, the West India agent, I've a notion he's broke; not a shilling from him either." "Not sixpence," echoed the lady. "You hear that," cried he, overjoyed at the concurrence.
She carried a little basket on her arm, of which her brother hastened to relieve her, and showed no little concern to remove out of sight. Being divested of this, she held out her hand, and saluted me with more cordiality than I looked for. Scarcely had our greetings been exchanged, when Bubbleton broke in, "I 've told him everything, Anna Maria.
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