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Updated: June 12, 2025
"Take it to Master Rattlin I have no time," was the result of his cogitations. It was brought to me again. "Take it to the usher," said I. "It is of no use; he don't know anything about it." "Take it then to Monsieur Cherfeuil, and tell him so."
There was one other question that I dreaded, yet burned to ask I need not state how fearful it was to me, since it was to learn the fate of her whom I had honoured, and loved, and hailed, as my mother the beautiful and the kind Mrs Cherfeuil. I conjectured that she, too, had gone to France with her husband, and the idea was painful to me.
It was during the holidays, when the rest of the young gentlemen were at their respective homes, that I, accompanied by some young acquaintances who resided in the village, repaired to the water to swim. It was a fine summer afternoon, and both Mr and Mrs Cherfeuil were in town.
When he could spare an instant for me, he was as little satisfied with the expression of my features as with the alteration in his; so he hopped down to Monsieur Cherfeuil, while the blood was streaming between his fingers, to lay his complaint in form against me.
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