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Updated: May 31, 2025
Now this said period, when the women were not averse to the odour of the priesthood, is not so far distant as some may think, Monsieur D'Orgemont, son of the preceding bishop, still held the see of Paris, and the great quarrels of the Armagnacs had not finished.
Pille Miche nudged his comrade by the elbow and showed him d'Orgemont, who was pretending to be asleep; but Pille-Miche and Marche-a-Terre both knew by experience that no one ever slept by the corner of their fire, and though the last words said to Galope-Chopine were almost whispered, they must have been heard by the victim, and the four Chouans looked at him fixedly, thinking perhaps that fear had deprived him of his senses.
The fright of the Chouans must have been great, for the words were followed by a stillness so profound that d'Orgemont and his companion could hear them muttering to themselves: "Ave, sancta Anna Auriaca gratia plena, Dominus tecum," etc. "They are praying, the fools!" cried d'Orgemont. "Hush! are you not afraid they will discover us?" said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, checking her companion.
"Don't brush against that wall, you might whiten yourself," said d'Orgemont suddenly, as he hurriedly put his hand between the girl's shawl and the stones which seemed to have been lately whitewashed. The old man's action produced quite another effect from that he intended.
In spite of these agonizing cries, Pille-Miche saw that the fire did not yet scorch the skin; he drew the sticks cleverly together so as to make a slight flame. On this d'Orgemont called out in a quavering voice: "My friends, unbind me! How much do you want? A hundred crowns a thousand crowns ten thousand crowns a hundred thousand crowns I offer you two hundred thousand crowns!"
Mademoiselle de Verneuil sprang into the kitchen, ran to d'Orgemont, and pulled him so violently from the crane that the thong broke. Then with the blade of her dagger she cut the cords which bound him. When the miser was free and on his feet, the first expression of his face was a painful but sardonic grin. "Apple-tree! yes, go to the apple-tree, you brigands," he said.
The old man's laugh dissipated her fears. "That iron back is set in a wall of granite two feet thick," he said. "We can hear them, but they can't hear us." Then he took the hand of his preserver and placed it near a crevice through which a current of fresh air was blowing. She then perceived that the opening was made in the shaft of the chimney. "Ai! ai!" cried d'Orgemont.
Jean II de Montmorency, by his marriage with Marguerite d'Orgemont, came to be the possessor of the domain, their son, in turn, becoming the heir. It was this son, Guillaume, who became one of the most brilliant servitors of the monarchs Louis XI, Louis XII, and Francis I, and it was through these friends at court that Chantilly first took on its regal aspect.
If you make me ask you your name again, here's my friend Pille-Miche, who will obtain the gratitude and good-will of your heirs in a second. Who are you?" he added, after a pause. "I am d'Orgemont, of Fougeres." "Ah! ah!" cried the two Chouans. "I didn't tell your name, Monsieur d'Orgemont," said Coupiau. "The Holy Virgin is my witness that I did my best to protect you."
A tear rolled from the hard eyes of the little old man, whose rusty wig suddenly seemed less hideous to the girl, and she turned her eyes respectfully away from his distress. But, in spite of these tender reminiscences, d'Orgemont kept on saying, "Don't go near the wall, you might "
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