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He had really only enjoyed the four evenings on which he had visited the Martre; but these limited hours of happiness did not make up for the web of falsehood in which he had enmeshed himself, or the daily dread of detection in which he lived. The Duke had noticed his son's absence, but his suspicions were very wide of the truth.
A body so chaste, and a mind so pure, could not have been but of one who was faithfully devoted to the Holy Virgin. The saint honoured and loved her all his life, with thoughts full of respect and tenderness. It was in the church of Mont Martre, dedicated to the mother of God, and on the day of her assumption, that he made his first vows.
To-day, travellers on the edge of the Pyrenees know a little old man, Martre Tolosan, who makes and sells replicas of the original models of cats found among the Roman remains at a small town near Toulouse. These are made in blue and white earthenware and each one is numbered. Mine, bought by a friend in 1895, is marked 5000.
Several times they pounced upon small herds of the enemy's cattle, and driving them into the river, directed them in their boats across the stream. In the commencement of July Eudes appeared on the slopes on Mont Martre with three battalions of soldiers. The enemy, who were for the most part on the other side of the Seine, crossed the river. A desperate battle ensued.
This he crossed at the narrowest point, about where the river empties into it, and headed for the eastern extremity of Lake La Martre. On his heels, still far behind, trod the two pursuers, patient, dogged, and inexorable. They had left far in the rear the out-forts of the Mounted and the little settlements of the free traders. Already they were deep in the Hudson's Bay Company trapping-grounds.
Whilst this work was going on at Belleville, another Russian column performed a similar service at Mt. Martre, which is nearer Paris in fact, immediately above the Barriers.... Thither our guide next conducted us, and pointed out the particular spots where the assault and carnage were most desperate.
It seemed to her that anything truly manly about him had come from the sea; that essentially he was a product of Mont Martre or the Banlieu of old Paris. She loathed him now as only a woman can loathe a man and, woman-like, her loathing focussed itself upon his blondness and the colour of his eyes.
Yet as Lessing showed in his Laocoon, despite all the crabbed narrowness of his treatment it is hopeless for the poet to enter into rivalry with the painter or sculptor. How poor they are beside a painting! Les femmes passent sous les arbres En martre, hermine et menu-vair Et les deesses, frileux marbres, Ont pris aussi l'abit d'hiver.
The works of man breathe over us a dismal, sepulchral, stand-still feeling. The villages have the nightmare, and men wear wooden shoes. The day's ride, however, was memorable with novelty; and when we saw Mont Martre, and its moth-like windmills, telling us we were coming to Paris, it was almost with regret at the swiftness of the hours.
On Sunday last, after having hunted everywhere for a Protestant church, one of which we found at last by some blunder quite empty, we went with our landlord, a serjeant in the national guard, to inspect the heights of Chaumont, Belleville, and Mt. Martre.... We ascended from the town for about 3 miles to a sort of large rambling village, in situation and circumstances somewhat like Highgate.
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