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Updated: May 3, 2025
"Because I can serve France better here," answered Charlot, "and at the same time enrich myself and my followers." "In short," returned La Boulaye coldly, "because you have degenerated from a soldier into a brigand." Charlot looked up, and for just a second his glance was not without uneasiness. Then he laughed. He unbuckled his sword and tossed it into a corner, throwing his hat after it.
Her blue eyes were veiled behind their long black lashes, her lips were tremulous, and her hands clasped and unclasped as she now made her prayer to the Republican. But in the hardened heart of Charlot no breath of pity stirred. He beheld her beauty and he bethought him of his wrongs. For the rest, perhaps, had she been less comely he had been less vengeful.
"Charlot's right," said the smith: "he knows best who is ablest to bear him. This lets me know, my pretty one, that you have not been always the bearer of your own mail: Charlot can tell tales." So deadly a hue came across the poor glee maiden's countenance as Henry spoke, that he was obliged to support her, lest she should have dropped to the ground.
Charlemagne now felt how necessary the aid of Ogier was to him. But, in spite of the representations of Turpin, Namo, and Salomon, he could not bring himself to consent to surrender Charlot to such punishment as Ogier should see fit to impose. Besides, he believed that Ogier was without strength and vigor, weakened by imprisonment and long abstinence.
Silvine and Prosper, together with little Charlot, were alone in the great kitchen of the farmhouse, she busy with her sewing, he whittling away at a whip that he proposed should be more than usually ornate.
There were some shouts of "Vive la Republique!" some of "Vive le Captaine Charlot!" and so they poured out of the yard, and left him to give a few hurried directions to the ten men that remained. "Sad invalids these, as I live!" exclaimed La Boulaye over his shoulder to his followers. "Ha! There is my friend of the red redingote!"
You know where the fountain is?" "Yes, yes!" said Blondel. "It is quite near the park gate." "Well, as I was hurrying along, I heard a great splash, as though something had fallen into the pool by the fountain. I looked and saw this little fellow struggling in the water. I ran and pulled him out. He was almost drowned." "Did he say anything, father?" asked Charlot. "Oh, no!
Charlot offered him a bundle of letters, which Valgrand took with careless hand. He looked at the envelopes one after another, hugely amused. "Violet ink, and monograms, and coronets, and perfume. Say, Charlot, is this a proposal? What do you bet?" "You never have anything else," the dresser grumbled " except bills." "Do you bet?"
She kissed him, as if she would have forced the words back into his mouth. "Who taught my darling such naughty words? It's not nice; you must not say them again, my loved one." Whereon Charlot, with the persistency of childhood, laughing and squirming, made haste to reiterate: "Dey're dirty loafers, de Prussians!"
Then: "It was a cowardly blow, Citoyenne," said the Deputy in accents of regret; "but what choice had I?" He set down the candlestick, and kneeling beside Charlot, he felt for the Captain's heart. "The door, Citoyenne," he muttered. "Lock it." Mechanically, and without uttering a word, she hastened to do his bidding. As the key grated in the lock he rose. "It has only stunned him," he announced.
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