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Updated: May 25, 2025
'Tis the sort of encouragement half the world needs to succeed," said M. Radisson, throwing down the cudgel. And Godefroy, the skulker, was glad to run for the marsh. The rest of us waited no urgings, but were to our posts on the run. I saw M. Radisson passing fife, piccolo, trumpet, and drum to the two tatterdemalion lads of our army. "Now blow like fiends when I give the word," said he.
Nevertheless, notwithstanding that M. Godefroy took a gulp of bicarbonate of soda, his indigestion refused to subside, consequently the banker could only take the scantiest breakfast that of a dyspeptic. In the midst of such luxury, and under the eye of a well-paid butler, M. Godefroy could only eat a couple of boiled eggs and nibble a little mutton chop.
M. Godefroy, however, scarcely heard the explanation. Strangely moved, he looked at the two sleeping infants on an iron bedstead and covered with an old blanket which had once been used either in barracks or hospital. Little Raoul, who was still in his velvet suit, looked so frail and delicate compared with his companion that the banker almost envied the latter his brown complexion.
Pick me out seven more! That will make nine! With those nine I own your fort by nightfall or I set you free!" "Done!" shouts Ben. "Every man here a witness!" "Choose!" insists M. Radisson. Sailors and soldiers were all on their feet gesticulating and laughing; for Godefroy was translating into French as fast as the leaders talked.
As he went up the steps M. Godefroy was thinking that he had barely time to dress for dinner; but on entering the vestibule he found all the domestics crowded in front of him in a state of alarm and confusion. In a corner, crouching on a seat, was the German nursery-governess, crying. When she saw the banker she buried her face in her hands and wept still more copiously than before.
He signalled, as we thought, for two hostages to come down from the fort; but scarce had he dropped his hand when fort and ship let out such a roar of cannonading as would have lifted the hair from any other head than Pierre Radisson's. Godefroy cut a caper. The Indian's eyes bulged with terror, and my own pulse went a-hop; but M. Radisson never changed countenance.
He acquaints him that Godefroy himself thought the Swedes ought not to send Plenipotentiaries to Cologn.
In stropping his razor, M. Godefroy approached the window, drew aside one of the hangings, looked on the boulevard, which was bathed in brightness, and made a slight grimace which bore some resemblance to a smile.
At that moment all his titles and decorations, his honors, his millions, were valueless to him. He had one single idea burning in his brain. "My poor child! Where is my child?" At last he reached the Prefecture of Police. But no one was there the office had been deserted for some time. "I am M. Godefroy, deputy from L'Eure My little boy is lost in Paris; a child of four years.
Godefroy give the knaves the rum but mind yourselves," he warned, "three parts rain-water!" Then facing me, "Take me to that bank!" He followed without comment. At the place of the camp-fire were marks of the struggle. "The same boot-prints as on the sand! A small man," observed Radisson.
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