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Updated: June 24, 2025
So shall I be in the hands of MM. d'Epernon and Loignac, till the day when they shall say, 'This plant is hurtful, let us tear it up; this beast is furious, let us kill him." Ernanton was calmed; St. Maline was no longer an object of anger but of pity. "Good fortune should cure you," said he; "when you succeed, you should hate less." "However high I should rise, others would be higher."
Ernanton, however, soon forgot his present situation, and became abstracted in thinking who the woman could be who had entered Paris as his page, and whom he had since seen in such a splendid litter; and with a heart more disposed to love adventure than to make ambitious calculations, he forgot why he was sitting there, till, suddenly raising his head, he saw that St. Maline was no longer there.
Maline waited impatiently until he came out again, which he did in about ten minutes, although it appeared an hour to St. Maline. When Ernanton came out, he looked all over him, and seeing nothing, he cried joyfully, "And you, monsieur, what has he given to you?" "His hand to kiss," replied Ernanton. St. Maline crushed his chain impatiently in his hands, and they both returned in silence.
"I take you all to witness," cried Ernanton, "that I am insulted without reason, and that in consequence" and he drew his sword "I will bury this sword in the breast of the first man who advances." St. Maline, furious, was about to draw his sword also; but before he had time to do so, the point of Ernanton's was on his breast, and as he advanced a step, without Ernanton's moving his arm, St.
They rode on silently till about half-past two, when they saw a man walking with a dog by his side. Ernanton passed him; but St. Maline, hoping to be more clever, rode up to him and said, "Traveler, do you expect something?" The man looked at him. Certainly his aspect was not agreeable.
Maline showed him that he was not to be trusted. St. Maline's glass was full, and he filled Ernanton's. "Peace! peace!" cried all the voices. Carmainges profited by the noise, and leaning toward St. Maline, with a smile on his lips, so that no one might suspect the sense of what he was saying, whispered: "M. de St.
The young men now rode on without speaking. St. Maline soon discovered, to his chagrin, that his horse was not as good as Ernanton's, and could hardly keep pace with him. This annoyed him so much that he began to quarrel with his horse, and to fret him so perpetually with the spur, that at last the animal started off and made for the river Bievre, where he got rid of his rider by throwing him in.
He descended from the step, as the statue of the commander from his pedestal, and walked straight up to St. Maline, firmly, but quietly. At this sight, several voices cried, "Come here, Ernanton; come this side, Carmainges; there is room here." "Thank you," replied the young man; "but it is near M. de St. Maline that I wish to sit." St. Maline rose, and all eyes were fixed on him.
Maline was very happy and proud on his horse, as he rode so near that he could hear the king say to his dog, "Gently, M. Love, you get in my way;" or to M. le Duc d'Epernon, "Duke, I believe these horses will break my neck." From time to time, however, St.
"What are you going to wear for an evening coat?" Angela inquired. "Our capes," Lois answered. "You'll freeze to death, and the hoods will crush your hair." "Well, what will we do?" Lois asked. "Wear veils?" Angela considered a minute, and then left the room to return with a long scarf of maline over her arm. "Here, take this, one of you; wait till we decide which one it's the more becoming to."
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