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Updated: June 4, 2025
And so it still went straight on to the sea and, of course, much swifter after such a heavy rain as they had had the day before. Carterette took him into every room in the house save her own and the Chevalier's. In the kitchen and in Detricand's bedroom Olivier Delagarde's eyes were very busy. He saw that the kitchen opened on the garden, which had a gate in the rear wall.
Malo in the Hardi Biaou, and saw him safely into the hands of an escort from Detricand. Three days later there was opened in one of the chambers of the Emperor's palace at Vienna a Congress of four nations Prussia, Russia, Austria, and Sardinia. Detricand's labours had achieved this result at last.
If the Duc de Bercy declares for us, others will come out of exile, and from submission to the rebel government, to our aid. My mission is to beg you to put aside whatever reasons you may have had for alliance with this savage government, and proclaim for the King." The Duke never took his eyes from Detricand's. What was going on behind that parchment face, who might say?
Carterette was busy running over the pages of the letter, and did not notice her colourless face. She had no thought that Guida had any vital interest in Philip, and ruthlessly, though unconsciously, she began to torture the young wife as few are tortured in this world. She read aloud Detricand's description of his visit to the Castle of Bercy, and of the meeting with Philip.
Detricand's eye flashed, but he answered coolly: "It wasn't talent that brought me here, but a boy's folly; it's not talent that's kept me from starving here, I'm afraid, but the ingenuity of the desperate." "Why stay here? The world was wide, and France but a step away. You would not have needed talents there.
She suddenly saw all Detricand's goodness to her stretch out in a long line of devoted friendship, from this day to that far-off hour seven years before, when he had made a vow to her kept how nobly! Devoted friendship was it devoted friendship alone, even with herself? In a tumult of emotions she answered him hurriedly. "No, no, no, no! I cannot accept it.
You should have been hanged." "Monsieur d'Avranche!" said Guida reproachfully, turning round from the fire. Detricand's answer came biting and dry. "You are an officer of your King, as was I. You should know that hanging the invaders of Jersey would have been butchery. We were soldiers of France; we had the distinction of being prisoners of war, monsieur." This shot went home.
His thoughts were not so clear nor so discerning as Detricand's. No more than he understood Guida did he understand this clear-eyed, still, self-possessed woman. He thought her cold, unsympathetic, barren of that glow which should set the pulses of a man like himself bounding.
He paused, took a step away from the table, and came back again. Once more he dropped his finger on the map. "Tinteniac is gone, and at Quiberon Peninsula your friend Sombreuil was slain. And look you here," he added in a lower voice, "at Laval my old friend the Prince of Talmont was executed at his own chateau, where I had spent many an hour with him." Detricand's eyes flashed fire.
Be wise: there are hundreds of your people who still will pass a Royalist on to safety." The Duke's hand dropped from the bell-rope. He knew that Detricand's words were true. Ruling himself to quiet, he said with cold hatred: "Like all your breed, crafty and insolent. But I will make you pay for it one day."
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