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He emerged from the cavity with a letter in his hand; he read the address, thrust it into his bosom, and as stealthily, but more rapidly, than he had come, took his way to his father. The Provencal took the letter from his son's hand, and looked at him with an approbation half-complacent, half-ironical. "Mon fils!" said he, patting the boy's head gently, "why should we not be friends?
"Pooh, mere rubbish, MON CHER," thinks Friedrich always. To which Keith, unwilling to argue too long, will answer: "Well, it is possible enough your Majesty may try them, some day; if I am wrong, it will be all the better for us!" Which Friedrich had occasion to remember by and by.
Besides, I want you to see how well I shall behave to Trevanion. Here is the carriage. Entrez, mon cher."
"I beg your pardon, Father; I know I ought to be more careful in your presence; but but the beastly, hellish scoundrel " "Bah! doucement, mon fils, doucement." The old man shook his head and his finger while speaking. "Easy, my son, easy. You would be a fine target for bullets were your words to reach Hamilton's ears. You are not permitted to revile your commander."
"We will give him some more, and decide afterwards. Mon Dieu! But I wish Philip was here." "Would you tell him?" "Surely! But not your mother, Phil," he said anxiously, and I knew again how truly he loved her. "She must not know. She must never know." "What about Aunt Jeanne?" I asked. He shook his head. "The fewer that know the better."
"I shall call you mon cher Gaston, and you well, you will call me your petite Liane Liane de Bourbriac will sound well, will it not?" "Yes. But why this masquerade?" I inquired. "I confess, mademoiselle, I don't understand it at all." "Dear Bindo does. Ask him."
"Bon jour, mon Prince!" he added, as a dark, intelligent native cantered by on a neat chestnut. "Vous allez boire un verre de biere?"
"Mon gars," he said very gravely, "I have done you a wrong. I ought to have kept it to myself. It was the suddenness of it that upset me. I told you no living man besides myself knew of this place, and that was because I believed this man dead dead this twenty years. He was partner with me in the free-trading for a time, until we fell out "
"I shall say a word in your father's ear, mon ami, and in the ear of your worthy employer whom you were so anxious for me not to see, and perhaps that would be worse for you than to pay me my money." Dawkins's brief exultation passed away. He saw that he was indeed in the power of an unscrupulous man, who was disposed to push his advantage to the utmost.
Looking down over her shoulder Rust could see, protruding from the white lace below her bodice, the corner of a paper. She talked little. It seemed to give her pleasure to lean against his shoulder and dreamily, half asleep, to rest there reposefully like a tired child. "But, mon ami" said Madame to me in relating these tender details with the greatest satisfaction, "I was very wide awake indeed."
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