United States or Portugal ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Pierre Philibert, he will be angry that I leave him, but he can follow, and they can all follow! I hate myself for it, De Pean! But Angelique des Meloises is to me more than creature or Creator. It is a sin to love a woman as I love her, De Pean!" De Pean fairly writhed before the spirit he evoked. He was not so sure of his game but that it might yet be lost.
But the Bourgeois might be killed in a sudden fray, when blood was up and swords drawn, when no one, as De Pean remarked, would be able to find an i undotted or a t uncrossed in a fair record of the transaction, which would impose upon the most critical judge as an honorable and justifiable act of self-defence.
I never pass through the streets but I see her." "Ay, that is because she intends to meet your Excellency!" Bigot looked sharply at De Pean. A new thought flashed in his eyes. "What! think you she makes a point of it, De Pean?" "I think she would not go out of the way of your Excellency." De Pean shuffled among his papers, but his slight agitation was noticed by the Intendant.
De Pean rubbed his hands with ecstasy at the thought that Le Gardeur would inevitably bite the dust under the avenging hand of Pierre Philibert, and Angelique would be his beyond all fear of rivals. The Bourgeois Philibert, after an arduous day's work, was enjoying in his armchair a quiet siesta in the old comfortable parlor of his city home.
De Pean ground his teeth in silent wrath at this quiet but unequivocal repulse, and vowed a bitter vow that Amelie should ere long repent in sackcloth and ashes for the wound inflicted upon his vanity and still more upon his cupidity. One of the day-dreams of his fancy was broken, never to return.
"Christ is All," a pean of praise, which has been sung both sides the sea, and published in three Hymnals and over sixty song books, will close this volume, dedicated to the glory of God. Text: "Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God." Matt. 16.16. Jesus asked a great question, and Peter made a great reply.
He could not forget the thrill with which he had first approached it, nor could he forget those gallant young Frenchmen who had given him a welcome, although he was already, in effect, an official enemy. And then, too, he had seen Bigot, Péan, Cadet and their corrupt group who were doing so much to wreck the fortunes of New France. Not all the valor of Montcalm, De Levis, Bourlamaque, St.
Angelique drew in her robe and made room for him beside her, and was presently laughing and talking as free from care, apparently, as an oriole warbling on a summer spray. De Pean courteously withdrew, leaving her alone with the Intendant. Bigot was charmed for the moment into oblivion of the lady who sat in her secluded chamber at Beaumanoir.
They ate as they best could, one standing, another on a chair, one at a table, another astride on his bench, with his plate before him, "as at a ball-room supper," a dandy of the Right said laughingly, Thuriot de la Rosière, son of the regicide Thuriot. M. de Rémusat buried his head in his hands. Emile Péan said to him, "We shall get over it."
De Pean recognized the stately figure and fearless look of the Bourgeois confronting Le Gardeur. The triumph of the Friponne was at hand. De Pean rubbed his hands with ecstasy as he called out to Le Gardeur, his voice ringing above the din of the crowd, "Achevez-le! Finish him, Le Gardeur!"
Word Of The Day