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Updated: June 7, 2025
'All the beggarly Irish who ever enlisted tell the same story. 'He was kidnapped by Galgenstein, resumed the other. 'A kidnapped deserter, said M. Potzdorff; 'la belle affaire! 'Well, I promised the lad I would ask for his discharge; and I am sure you can make him useful. 'You HAVE asked his discharge, answered the elder, laughing. 'Bon Dieu! You are a model of probity!
Catherine, too, had HER business, as we have seen; but this was of a very delicate nature. At nine o'clock, she had an appointment with the Count; and faithfully, by that hour, had found her way to Saint Margaret's churchyard, near Westminster Abbey, where she awaited Monsieur de Galgenstein.
Hayes had some notion of the attachment of Monsieur de Galgenstein for his wife is very certain: the man could not but perceive that she was more gaily dressed, and more frequently absent than usual; and must have been quite aware that from the day of the quarrel until the present period, Catherine had never asked him for a shilling for the house expenses.
In this woeful plight, moneyless, wifeless, horseless, corporalless, with a gag in his mouth and a rope round his body, are we compelled to leave the gallant Galgenstein, until his friends and the progress of this history shall deliver him from his durance. Mr. Brock's adventures on the Captain's horse must likewise be pretermitted; for it is our business to follow Mrs.
'Captain Wood is too gallant a gentleman, I am sure, not to satisfy the Count; and will show us that he has no such mark on his arm as only private soldiers put there. "'Captain Wood, says I, 'will do no such thing, Major. I'll fight that scoundrel Galgenstein, or you, or any of you, like a man of honour; but I won't submit to be searched like a thief! "'No, in coorse, said Macshane.
Thus is it ever for these blessed recollections the soul always has a place; and while crime perishes, and sorrow is forgotten, the beautiful alone is eternal. "O golden legends, written in the skies!" mused De Galgenstein, "ye shine as ye did in the olden days! WE change, but YE speak ever the same language. Gazing in your abysmal depths, the feeble ratioci "
When Count von Galgenstein had ridden half a mile on the Stratford road, looking as black and dismal as Napoleon galloping from the romantic village of Waterloo, he espied, a few score yards onwards, at the turn of the road, a certain object which caused him to check his horse suddenly, brought a tingling red into his cheeks, and made his heart to go thump thump! against his side.
Pooh! nonsense! no such thing! not for two or three and seventy pages or so, when, perhaps, you MAY know what Mrs. Catherine never would have done. The reader will remember, in the second chapter of these Memoirs, the announcement that Mrs. Catherine had given to the world a child, who might bear, if he chose, the arms of Galgenstein, with the further adornment of a bar-sinister.
"'Give me my sword or my pen, said I. 'Give me my sword or my pen, and with these Maximilian de Galgenstein is ready to serve you; but sure, sure, a great prince will pity the weak health of a faithful subject, who does not know how to eat Sauerkraut? His Highness was walking about the room: I was still on my knees, and stretched forward my hand to seize his coat.
Brock, alias Captain, alias Doctor Wood, "here's the meat a-getting cold, and I am longing for my breakfast." As they went in he looked her hard in the face. "What, still at it, you silly girl? I've been watching you these five minutes, Cat; and be hanged but I think a word from Galgenstein, and you would follow him as a fly does a treacle-pot!"
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