United States or Finland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
And my mother, where is she? and the Marechal, and Ah! and yet it is but a fearful dream! Leave me." As he said this, he turned toward the wall, and again pulled the clothes over his head. The innkeeper, in amazement, touched his forehead three times with his finger, looking at Grandchamp as if to ask him whether his master were also mad.
Meanwhile, Cinq-Mars, amid the excitement which his outbreak had provoked, felt his left arm seized by a hand as hard as iron, which, drawing him from the crowd to the foot of the steps, pushed him behind the wall of the church, and he then saw the dark face of old Grandchamp, who said to him in a sharp voice: "Sir, your attack upon thirty musketeers in a wood at Chaumont was nothing, because we were near you, though you knew it not, and, moreover, you had to do with men of honor; but here 'tis different.
Lead must not be ill spoken of! What is that " While occupied in binding his master's leg below the knee, the worthy Grandchamp was about to hold forth in praise of lead as absurdly as he had in praise of the horse, when he was forced, as well as Cinq-Mars, to hear a warm and clamorous dispute among some Swiss soldiers who had remained behind the other troops.
"What the devil's that-an imp or an angel, saying the funeral service over you, and you under the clothes, as if you were in a shroud?" This abrupt exclamation came from the rough voice of Grandchamp, who was so astonished at what he had seen that he dropped the glass of lemonade he was bringing in. Finding that his master did not answer, he became still more alarmed, and raised the bedclothes.
The Maratre, or Stepmother, as the piece was called when staged, presents the home of a Count de Grandchamp, who, after being a general under the First Empire, has turned manufacturer under the restoration. He has a grown-up daughter, Pauline, and a second wife named Gertrude, the latter still a young, handsome woman, with a ten-year-old son, the little Napoleon.
No, Monsieur, I am too deeply impressed with the respect I owe to Madame la Marquise, to give her an opportunity of saying to me: 'Grandchamp, my son has been killed with a shot or with a sword; why were you not before him? Or, 'He has received a stab from the stiletto of an Italian, because he went at night beneath the window of a great princess; why did you not seize the assassin? This would be very disagreeable to me, Monsieur, for I never have been reproached with anything of the kind.
While her waiting-woman had gone to find Grandchamp, the young and trembling Marie with a timid hand had pushed open the folding-door of the church. She there found Cinq-Mars standing, disguised, and anxiously awaiting her.
Ah!" he added with a sigh, "things are going strangely; and if we continue thus, there's no knowing what will be the end of it." "But knowest thou, Grandchamp, that these scoundrels had made the crucifix red hot? a thing at which no honest man would have been less enraged than I." "Except Monsieur le Marechal, your father, who would not have done at all what you have done, Monsieur."
De Thou sat by his side, holding his hand, and Grandchamp at his feet, still grumbling at the numerous interruptions that had fatigued his wounded master. Cinq-Mars himself tasted one of those moments of calm and hope, which so refresh the soul as well as the body. His free hand secretly pressed the gold cross that hung next to his heart, the beloved donor of which he was so soon to behold.
"Two hours!" cried Henri, terrified. "Ah, miserable old man that I am!" said Grandchamp; "I have slept while my master was in danger. It is the first time." "You were not with us, then, in the confessional?" continued Cinq-Mars, anxiously, while Marie tremblingly pressed against his arm. "What!" said the Abbe, "did you not see the rascal to whom they gave my key?" "No! whom?" cried all at once.
Word Of The Day