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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Not a chance of it! You should have seen the tea-party manners of the camp-marshal!" Edward would have endeavoured to carry his brother away forthwith, but there was no train until late at night; so Hal went upstairs, where he found Moylan and Hartman with Mary Burke and Mrs. Zamboni, all eager to hear his story.
These troops shut up in Blenheim had been left under the command of Blansac, camp-marshal, and Clerembault, lieutenant-general. During the battle this latter was missed, and could nowhere be found. It was known afterwards that, for fear of being killed, he had endeavoured to escape across the Danube on horseback attended by a single valet.
The room was bright from an electric torch in the hands of one of the invaders. "There's the fellow!" cried a voice, which Hal instantly recognised as belonging to Jeff Cotton, the camp-marshal. "Stick 'em up, there! You, Joe Smith!" Hal did not wait to see the glint of the marshal's revolver. There followed a silence.
"I'm telling him to get you some food, and you can sit and eat it here. Will that suit you better?" "It depends," said Hal, making the most of the situation. "Are you inviting me as your prisoner, or as your guest?" "Oh, come off!" said the other. "But I have to know my legal status. It will be of importance to my lawyers." "Be my guest," said the camp-marshal.
Next in command under Capizucca was his camp-marshal, an officer who bore the illustrious name of Piccolomini father of the Duke Ottavio, of whom so much was to be heard at a later day throughout the fell scenes of that portion of the eighty years' tragedy now enacting, which was to be called the Thirty Years' War of Germany. The camp-marshal warmly seconded the proposition of his colonel.
I doubt if you believe in altruism any more than Stone does." The camp-marshal took his cigar from his mouth, and flicked off the ashes. His face became serious, and there was a silence, while he studied Hal. "You a union organiser?" he asked, at last. "No," said Hal. "You're an educated man; you're no labourer, that I know. Who's paying you?" "There you are! You don't believe in altruism."
He attached pensions of 6000 livres and 4000 livres to the grades of lieutenant-general and camp-marshal. To several other people he gave pensions of 4000 livres; to eight or ten others, 3000 or 2000 livres. I obtained one of 8000 livres for Madame Marechal de Lorges; and one of 6000 livres was given to the Marechal de Chamilly, whose affairs were much deranged by the Mississippi.
Hal had come to realise that he was not getting anywhere in his duel with the camp-marshal. He had made every effort to get somewhere; he had argued, threatened, bluffed, he had even sung songs for the marshal! But the marshal was going to ship him out, that was all there was to it.
"Come!" said Cotton, and took him by the coat-sleeve and marched him out, almost before the rest of the diners had time to catch their breath. Hal had no opportunity now to display his "tea-party manners" to the camp-marshal.
"I think I'll have a seat while I consider the matter," said Hal; and he took a chair, and stretched out his legs, and made himself elaborately comfortable. "That bench upstairs is frightfully hard," said he, and smiled mockingly upon the camp-marshal. When this conversation was continued, it was upon a new and unexpected line.
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