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Updated: May 12, 2025
Well! her mother's jewels and quite a good deal of gold were discovered by one of our most able spies to be under the care of a certain Abbe Foucquet, a calotin from Boulogne devoted to the family, so it seems." "Yes?" queried Chauvelin indifferently. "Our men seized the jewels and gold, that is all. We don't know yet what we mean to do with the priest.
"A fancy, friend Hebert, and I mean to have it." "But who is to ring it, Citizen?" "Morbleu! haven't you one calotin left in Boulogne whom you can press into doing this service?" "Aye! calotins enough! there's the Abbe Foucquet in this very building... in No. 6 cell..." "Sacre tonnerre!" ejaculated Chauvelin exultingly, "the very man! I know his dossier well!
"Now then, calotin," said the first soldier with an oath, "this is none of your business. Forward! march!" he added, addressing his men, "and you, Citizeness, will find it wiser to come quietly along and not to attempt any tricks with me, or the gag and manacles will have to be used." But Marguerite had no intention of resisting.
"I have the letter! A Paris!" "Victory!" echoed Chauvelin, exultant and panting, "victory!! The Angelus, friend Hebert! Take the calotin to ring the Angelus!!!" It was instinct which caused Collot d'Herbois to find the door; he tore it open, letting in a feeble ray of light from the corridor.
Joseph and ring the Angelus. ... The old fool will be delighted... more especially when he knows that he will thereby be giving the very signal which will set his own sister's children free.... You understand?..." "I understand, Citizen." "And you can make the old calotin understand?" "I think so, Citizen.... You want him in this room.... At what time?" "A quarter before seven." "Yes.
The room where so much turmoil had taken place, where so many hearts had beaten with torrent-like emotions, where the awesome tragedy of revenge and hate, of love and passion had been consummated, was now silent and at peace. The soldiers had gone: some in pursuit of the revellers, some with Collot d'Herbois, others with Hebert and the calotin who was to ring the Angelus.
But though Juliette might have been ready to yield to Lady Blakeney's persuasion, Desiree Candeille, under Chauvelin's eye, and fired by her own desire to further humiliate this overbearing aristocrat, did not wish the little scene to end so tamely just yet. "Your old calotin was made to part with his booty, m'dear," she said, with a contemptuous shrug of her bare shoulders.
"And look at Pierre, who never meets a calotin but he must needs spit on him." "Is there no safety anywhere?... are we to be butchered like so many cattle?..." Somebody makes the suggestion: "It is a threat... they would not dare!..." "Would not dare?..." 'Tis old Andre Lemoine who has spoken, and he spits vigorously on the ground. Andre Lemoine has been a soldier; he was in La Vendee.
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