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Updated: May 22, 2025
"What a position is ours!" they would say; if we make any resistance, we are treated as rebels; if we are obedient, they pretend we are converted, and they hoodwink the king by means of our very submission." The misfortunes were redoubling. From Poitou the persecution had extended through all the provinces. Superintendent Foucauld obtained the conversion in mass of the province of Bearn.
Louvois did not admit this excuse; he wanted soldiers to be able to cross the defiles of mountains in the depths of winter just as he would have orange trees travel in the month of February. "I received orders to send off to Versailles from La Meilleraye the orange trees which the Duke of Mazarin gave the king," writes Superintendent Foucauld in his journal.
The young nobleman's colour rose; between him and the Gascon gentleman was no love lost. "There are some debts I pay to-day," he cried haughtily. "For the rest, farewell my little master! When one does not understand the jest it is time to be gone." He was halfway to the door, watched by all, when the King spoke. "Foucauld!" he cried, in an odd, strangled voice. "Foucauld!"
My cousins, for they are blood-royal, shall live if they will recant. And my old nurse, whether or no. And Pare, for no one else understands my complexion. And " "And Rochefoucauld, doubtless, sire?" The King, whose eye had sought his favourite companion, withdrew it. He darted a glance at Tavannes. "Foucauld? Who said so?" he muttered jealously. "Not I! But we shall see. We shall see!
And had he not been chased from Paris only that morning and forbidden to return? They were still wondering, still gazing, when abruptly as he did all things Charles thrust back his chair. "Foucauld, you owe me ten pieces!" he cried with glee, and he slapped the table. "Pay, my friend; pay!" "To-morrow, little master; to-morrow!" Rochefoucauld answered in the same tone. And he rose to his feet.
Moroccan oases differ one from another far more than those of South Algeria and Tunisia. As for Sefrou, which Foucauld called the most beautiful oasis of Morocco, it is simply an extremely fertile valley with vineyards and orchards stretching up to a fine background of mountains. But the fact that it lies just below the Atlas makes it an important market-place and centre of caravans.
The Berbers have never been religious fanatics, and the Vicomte de Foucauld, when he made his great journey of exploration in the Atlas in 1883, remarked that antagonism to the foreigner was always due to the fear of military espionage and never to religious motives. This equally applies to the Berbers of the sixteenth century, when the Holy War against Catholic Spain and Portugal was preached.
Foucauld, with whom his Majesty played to-night, hand to hand and face to face Foucauld is dead! And you think to live? You?" he continued, lashing himself into passion. "I know not by what chance you came where I saw you an hour gone, nor by what chance you came by that and that" pointing with accusing finger to the badges the Huguenot wore. "But this I know!
Lenz in Timbuctoo, and De Foucauld and Harris in Morocco, who, in stained skins and borrowed costumes, personated merchants and devotees and doctors and Jews; and most of whom have enriched the literature of discovery with valuable books. Men also such as Dr.
Tavannes nodded carelessly in return, looked an instant at the cards on the table, and passed on, pushed his way through the circle, and reached the door. He was lifting the curtain to go out, when Nancay, the Captain of the Guard, plucked his sleeve. "What have you been saying to Foucauld, M. de Tavannes?" he muttered. "Yes," with a jealous glance, "you, M. le Comte."
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