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Updated: June 27, 2025
I know Duprez's adjutant, Martel, personally, and have heard the whole story from him. It's true that they found Rivarez stranded out there. He had been taken prisoner in the war, fighting for the Argentine Republic, and had escaped. He was wandering about the country in various disguises, trying to get back to Buenos Ayres.
As soon as he saw the blood flowing from Duprez's cheek, he tittered a howl as if some one had shot him, and away he rushed into the woods as fast as he could go. We called him, and shouted his name till we were hoarse, all no use! He wouldn't come back. I suppose he'll find his way home by himself?" "Oh, yes," said Thelma gravely. "But when he comes I will scold him very much!
It is said that he was picked up out of charity by Duprez's expedition somewhere in the wilds of tropical South America, in a state of inconceivable savagery and degradation. I believe he has never satisfactorily explained how he came to be in such a condition. As for the rising in the Apennines, I fear it is no secret that persons of all characters took part in that unfortunate affair.
An odd direction indeed for Pierre Duprez's reflection to wander in he, who never reflected on either past or future, but was content to fritter away the present as pleasantly as might be and the only reason to which his unusually serious reverie could be attributed was the presence of Thelma.
"Monsieur le bon Dieu is very impartial! Some serve Him by constant over-feeding, others by constant over-starving; it is all one to Him apparently! How do you know which among His servants He likes best, the fat or the lean?" Sandy Macfarlane, though slightly a bigot for his own form of doctrine, broke into a low chuckle of irrepressible laughter at Duprez's levity, but Mr.
Britta, on perceiving her, uttered a faint shriek, and without considering the propriety of her action, buried her nut-brown curls and sparkling eyes in Duprez's coat-sleeve, which, to do the Frenchman justice, was exceedingly prompt to receive and shelter its fair burden. The bonde rose from his chair, and his face grew stern. "What do you here, Lovisa Elsland?
Then, overcome by excitement and temper, she burst out crying, heedless of Pierre Duprez's smiling nods of approval, and the admiring remarks he was making under his breath, such as "Brava, ma petite! C'est bien fait! c'est joliment bien dit! Mais je crois bien!" Lovisa seemed unmoved; she raised her head and looked, at Gueldmar. "Is this your answer?" she demanded.
"What was it?" asked Lorimer, remembering Duprez's recent remarks. "Oh, I would not tell you!" she said eagerly, drying her eyes and endeavoring to smile, "because I am sure it was a mistake, and all wrong and I was foolish to fancy that such a thing could be, even for a moment. But when one does not know the world, it seems cruel "
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