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Updated: May 13, 2025
Another favorite promenade of ours, and the one that I preferred even to the hero-worship of the Luxembourg, was the Parc Monceaux. I never remember seeing a single creature but ourselves in the complete seclusion of this deserted pleasaunce.
He re-entered it at nightfall, with the child, by way of the Barrier Monceaux. There he entered a cabriolet, which took him to the esplanade of the Observatoire. There he got out, paid the coachman, took Cosette by the hand, and together they directed their steps through the darkness, through the deserted streets which adjoin the Ourcine and the Glaciere, towards the Boulevard de l'Hopital.
The warriors who, under Hoche, had guarded the walls of Dunkirk, and who, under Kleber, had made good the defence of the wood of Monceaux, shrank with horror from an office more degrading than that of the hangman. "The Convention," said an officer to his men, "has sent orders that all the English prisoners shall be shot." "We will not shoot them" answered a stout-hearted sergeant.
In the month of August of this year the King found some alleviation of the growing uneasiness which his passion for Madame de Conde occasioned him in a visit to Monceaux, where he spent two weeks in such diversions as the place afforded.
Two hundred thousand mechanics alone were out of employment in Paris, besides laborers, servants, clerks, etc. It was proposed to establish national workshops in Louis Philippe's pretty private pleasure-grounds, the Parc des Monceaux.
I'll reserve my opinion, anyway, until I have written to Paris to ascertain if there is such a person as M. Felix Marchand, of the Pare Monceaux. If there is not, then I will interview Lamb and Drummond, and confide the whole story to them." He decided to write the letter at once, but before he could reach his desk there was a sharp rap on the door.
"Where is Élodie?" asked the citoyenne Chassagne. Jean Blaise shook his head; he did not know. He never did know; he made it a point of honour not to. Julie had come to take her friend with her to see Rose Thévenin at Monceaux, where the actress lived in a little house with an English garden.
He was one of the Vilains of Pareil by Monceaux, his father living on the edge of the park, little more than a thousand yards from the chateau; and I knew no harm of him. Still, I knew little; and for that reason was forward to believe that there, rather than in my own household, lay the key to the enigma.
"Do I address Monsieur Vernon, the artist?" he asked in good English, with a French accent. "Yes, that's right." "Formerly Monsieur John Clare?" "I once bore that name," said Jack, with a start of surprise; he was ill-pleased to hear it after so many years. The visitor produced a card bearing the name of M. Felix Marchand, Parc Monceaux, Paris. "I do not recall you," said Jack.
You have seen him, I suppose." "Yes, I saw Count le Moyne. He lives in a charming little hôtel near the Parc Monceaux. He had my card in his hand when I entered. He welcomed me quite warmly, and said, 'It is odd, as you are of your legation, that we have never met; but then I am only of late transferred from Vienna. Pray sit down.
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