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Updated: June 14, 2025
There was a timorous rap upon the window of Hesden Le Moyne's sleeping-room in the middle of the night, and, waking, he heard his name called in a low, cautious voice. "Who is there?" he asked. "Sh sh! Don't talk so loud, Marse Hesden. Please come out h'yer a minnit, won't yer?"
Next him sat Babberly. Cahoon, McNeice and Malcolmson sat together at the bottom of the table. I was given a chair on Moyne's other side. Conroy would not sit at the table at all. He had two chairs in a corner of the room. He sat on one of them and put his legs on the other. He also smoked a cigar, which I think everybody regarded as bad form.
She felt it necessary to stimulate the popular taste for demonstrations, and wrote Moyne's manifesto for him. It was a very good manifesto, full of weighty words about the present crisis and the necessity of standing shoulder to shoulder against the iniquitous plot of the Government for the dismemberment of the Empire.
I meant to anticipate the visit to you of Count le Moyne's seconds. I am sorry to have been late." "Sorry! Not I. It is immense!" "The count will call me out. There will be the usual farce of a sword duel. I am in fair practice. This will relieve you so far as concerns the count, and nobody else will fight you with the weapons you offer." "Won't they, indeed? I have been insulted.
In 1698 the governor and the intendant joined in bringing Le Moyne's services to the favourable notice of the minister, with the suggestion that it should receive suitable acknowledgment. Two years later this recognition came in the form of a royal decree which elevated the seigneury of Longueuil to the dignity of a barony, and made its owner the Baron de Longueuil.
His words proved true; for no sooner was his story spread abroad among the Iroquois, than the confederacy resounded with war-songs from end to end, and the warriors took the field under their two great war-chiefs. Notwithstanding Le Moyne's report, their number, according to the Iroquois account, did not exceed twelve hundred. Even this may safely be taken as an exaggeration.
The young performer was in his dressing room, getting ready for the big swing, which he would perform before his mystery tricks, when Mr. Moyne, the circus treasurer, entered. There was a queer look on Mr. Moyne's face, and Joe could not help but notice it. "What's worrying you?" asked Joe. "Doesn't this weather suit you, or isn't there a big enough crowd?"
He talked so much about his dislike of England and everything English that I did not like to introduce the subject of the subscription to Lady Moyne's political fund. He did, in the end, subscribe largely. When I heard about his £1000 cheque I supposed that he must have counted the Union with us a misfortune for England and so wished to perpetuate it.
Dark was the fire that played in her pretty eyes, heavy the anguish that rode her breast. She hated the memory of that white garment spread out on Maren Le Moyne's bed.
He married a cousin just before he went into the service more to have somebody to leave with his ma than because he wanted a wife, folks said. The old man, Colonel Casaubon, died during the war. He never seemed like himself after the boy went into the army. I saw him once or twice, and I never did see such a change in any man. Le Moyne's wife died, too.
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