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Others are old words like thole and nesh and lew and mense and foison and fash and douce, which have never been accepted into the standard English, or have long since vanished from it, in spite of their excellence and ancient history, and in spite of the fact that they have long been in current use in various districts.
She found Mme. de Vaubadon's guide at the rendezvous before the church door; it was Foison, whom she recognised. The passwords exchanged, d'Aché came forward, kissed Mlle. de Montfiquet's hand, bade her adieu, and started with the gendarme.
Oh, the riot, the clamour, the crowding chorus, of all silent things that spoke by scent and colour and budding thrust and foison, that moonlit night of June! Under the laurel-shade all was still ghostly enough, brigand-haunted, crackling, whispering of night and all its possibilities of terror.
He would have all the money, he said, or keep my poor monstre in prison. Paddington came in, too, drawling and lisping and twiddling his hair; so did Champignac, and his chef everybody with foison of compliments and pretty speeches plaguing poor me, who longed to be rid of them, and was thinking every moment of the time of mon pauvre prisonnier.
On the morning of September 23d, a meeting took place at seven o'clock at the Mayor of Luc's house. The doctors who had held the autopsy were there, Captain Mancel and Foison, who was in great agitation, although he tried to hide it, at having to assist at the exhumation of his victim. They started for the cemetery, and the grave-digger did his work.
And as they had dreamed, so it came to passe: for being awakened out of their sleepe, in came his men with so great foison of fish, that the same might haue sufficed a great armie of men, for the vittelling of them at that season.
And as Captain Mancel, who presided at the interview, remarked that those were indeed the bands used by gendarmes, Foison left the room with more threats, swearing that he owed an account to no one. The news of the crime had spread with surprising rapidity, and indignation was great wherever it was heard.
The same evening at Caen, where everything was known, although Fouché was still looking for Morin-Cochu, the vengeance of the corpse annihilating Foison was the topic of all conversations. There was a certain gaiety in the town, that was proud of its prefect's attitude.
After fifteen minutes the shovel struck the board that covered d'Aché's body, and soon after the corpse was seen. The beard had grown thick and strong. Foison gazed at it. It was indeed the man with whom he had travelled a whole night, chatting amiably while each step brought him nearer to the assassins who were waiting for him.
It was said that at dawn that morning the quartermaster Foison and four of his men had gone into an inn at Mathieu, one of them carrying a gun with the butt-end broken.
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