Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 1, 2025
Did Labrouk mean that the countersign was "Jesu," or was that word the broken prayer of his soul as it hurried forth? So strange a countersign I had never heard, and yet it might be used in this Catholic country. I rode on, tossed about in my mind. So much hung on this. If I could not give the countersign, I should have to fight my way back again the road I came. But I must try my luck.
There was but one thing to do tell her the whole truth, and trust her; for I had at least done fairly by her and by the dead man. So I told them how Jean Labrouk had met his death; told them who I was, and why I was in Quebec how Jean died in my arms; and, taking from my breast the cross that Mathilde had given me, I swore by it that every word which I said was true.
That evening, at eight o'clock, Jean Labrouk was buried. A shell had burst not a dozen paces from his own door, within the consecrated ground of the cathedral, and in a hole it had made he was laid, the only mourners his wife and his grandfather, and two soldiers of his company sent by General Bougainville to bury him. I watched the ceremony from my loft, which had one small dormer window.
Presently he seemed to note something in the woman's eyes, for he spoke almost sharply to her: "Jean Labrouk was honest man, and kept faith with comrades." "And I keep faith too, comrade," was the answer. "Gabord's a brute to doubt you," he rejoined quickly, and he drew from his pocket a piece of gold, and made her take it, though she much resisted. Meanwhile my mind was made up.
"Jean," he said, looking at the grave, "Jean Labrouk, a man dies well that dies with his gaiters on, aho! ... What have you said for Jean Labrouk, m'sieu'?" he added to the priest. The priest stared at him, as though he had presumed. "Well?" said Gabord. "Well?" The priest answered nothing, but prepared to go, whispering a word of comfort to the poor wife.
There was but one thing to do tell her the whole truth, and trust her; for I had at least done fairly by her and by the dead man. So I told them how Jean Labrouk had met his death; told them who I was, and why I was in Quebec how Jean died in my arms; and, taking from my breast the cross that Mathilde had given me, I swore by it that every word which I said was true.
He was like one who, occupied with some great matter, passed through the usual affairs of life with a distant eye. Immediately he handed me a letter, saying: "M'sieu', I give my word to hand you this in a day or a year, as I am able. I get your message to me this morning, and then I come to care for Jean Labrouk, and so I find you here, and I give the letter. It come to me last night."
"Is Jean Labrouk with Bougainville yet?" "He's done with Bougainville; he's dead," I answered. "Dead! dead!" said he, a sort of grin playing on his face. I made a shot at a venture. "But you're to pay his wife Babette the ten francs and the leg of mutton in twenty-four hours, or his ghost will follow you. Swallow that, pudding-head!
He reached and put the tumbler on a shelf, then turned and opened the door, his face all altered to a grimness. "Attend here, Labrouk!" he called; and on the soldier coming, he blurted out in scorn, "Here's this English captain can't go to supper without Voban's shears to snip him. Go fetch him, for I'd rather hear a calf in a barn-yard than this whing-whanging for 'M'sieu' Voban!"
Tell"...he sank back, but raised himself, and continued: "Tell my Babette I weep with her.... Ah, mon grand homme de Calvaire bon soir!" He sank back again, but I roused him with one question more, vital to me. I must have the countersign. "Labrouk! Labrouk!" said I sharply. He opened his dull, glazed eyes. "Qui va la?" said I, and I waited anxiously.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking