Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 28, 2025
One day they stopped when they heard the post-horn blowing at the gate; and both of them became very much excited when George's father came out himself with a big official envelope marked 'On His Majesty's Service' and addressed to 'James Wolfe, Esquire. Inside was a commission as second lieutenant in the Marines, signed by George II and dated at St James's Palace, November 3, 1741.
So saying, Monsieur Etienne darted out of the room, as if be were rushing off to look for himself; but he stopped as soon as he had reached his front door, for there was no necessity to go farther. A dark caleche, with three horses, dashed up to the door, while not far behind came another chaise, whose post-horn was sounding "Je suis pere, un pere heureux."
Gotzkowsky, too, has been awakened by the unaccustomed sound of the post-horn." "Help the countess to prepare for the journey," cried Elise, standing still, motionless, and as if paralyzed.
The doctor was dismayed when he saw the governor in such a passion, and he would have made a Tirteafuera out of the room but that the same instant a post-horn sounded in the street; and the carver putting his head out of the window turned round and said, "It's a courier from my lord the duke, no doubt with some despatch of importance."
Again the post-horn sounded the "Drei Reuter;" again the carriage stopped before the door, and the count descended, giving to every one a gift like the "Maedchen aus der Fremde," and for the sixth time rolled away. "We are bewitched; it is a ghost from the infernal regions!" groaned the steward. "I cannot abide it any longer I shall die!" said the second waiter.
Can it be!" said Etienne, interrupting himself. "Yes, it is the sound of a post-horn." "Perhaps it is some of our guests," suggested Madame Etienne. "No no, for our postilions to-day play but one air, 'Je suis pere, un pere heureux," said Monsieur Etienne, listening with all his might to the approaching horn. "It is a passenger," said he, despondingly, "Athanasia, my angel, we are lost!"
A carriage is coming, and a post-horn sounded. They have arrived!" Old Trude hurried out just as they drove up to the door. The steward and two servants in livery rushed down the steps to assist them to alight, and Trude also to greet her favorite, who was now so pale, grave, and chilling in her appearance.
"Why, if he had anything to say, did he appear to her, poor child, and not to me? though, after all, I am not at all sure that I should not have gone out of my mind in such a case." Before long the post-horn made itself heard in the distance; we hurried down, our hearts beating with the fear of possible disappointment.
The servants tremblingly fixed their eyes upon the stairs, no longer possessing the power to move, but heard the post-horn, and the carriage which drove up to the door the third time. Slowly and proudly Count St. Julien advanced. It was the same cold, grave face, with the thick black beard, and the powdered peruke, the curls of which overshadowed the brow and cheeks.
As I crossed the broad street I saw the fair sisters and the Italian still standing at the window, and looking out to catch the sound of the post-horn. I leaned back in the corner, and dwelt with a good deal of satisfaction upon the crushing effect of the bitter scathing letter that I had left behind for them in the hotel."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking