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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Nothing, if Monsieur Rossignol is to be the magistrate," she replied, with forced lightness. "Good!" He looked at her quizzically through his gold-handled glass. "I can't frighten you, I see. Well, you must wait a little; you shall be sworn in postmistress in three days." His voice lowered, became more serious.
"I am not eating to-night, I am riding," answered Le Rossignol, bold in mystery while the moon made half uncertain the draggled state of Shubenacadie's feathers. She placed her hands on his back and pressed him downward, as if his plumage foamed up from an over-full packing-case.
The mandolin was heard in the barracks once during those days, for Le Rossignol had come out of the house determined to seek out Marguerite. She found the Swiss girl beside the powder magazine, for Marguerite had brought out a stool, and seemed trying to cure her sick spirit in the sun. The dwarf stood still and looked at her with insolent eyes.
The Brigadier General visited the sector. June 10th. Some rain fell during the day. The enemy displayed his usual artillery activity. Two enemy aeroplanes, one of which was a Halberstadter, flew over the Battalion area at a low altitude for some time. June 11th. The day was fairly quiet, our forward posts in front of Rossignol Wood were troubled by our own artillery which persistently fired short.
The usual log, however, burned in cheer, and families had reunited in distinct nests. A pavilion of tapestry was set up for Lady Dorinda and all her treasures, near the stairs: the southern window of her chamber had been made a target. Le Rossignol sat on a table, with the four expectant children still dancing in front of her. Was it not Pâques evening?
Claude La Tour and his wife, the maid of honor, seemed to palpitate in their frames, with the flickering expressions of firelight. The silent company of these two people was always enjoyed by Le Rossignol. She knew their disappointments, and liked to have them stir and sigh. In the daytime, the set courtier smile was sadder than a pine forest.
"The Seigneur is going to open a sort of bank, and take up the notes of hand, and give bank-bills in return. To-day I go with his steward to Quebec to get the money." "What does the Abbe Rossignol say?" said the Cure's sister. "Our church and parish are our own," interposed the Cure proudly. "We do our duty and fear no abbe." "Voila!" said M. Dauphin, "he never can keep hands off.
Marceau was now appointed commander-in-chief, pending the arrival of Turreau and Rossignol. The latter had, almost from the commencement of the war, intrigued against every general concerned in the operations, especially against Kleber.
If I determine upon a campaign against the Vendee I shall send neither Santerre nor Rossignol!" "The Convention sent Kleber, and the Directory, Hoche!" "I shall not send; I shall go myself." "Nothing worse can happen to them than to be killed like Lescure, or shot like Charette." "It may happen that I pardon them." "Cato taught us how to escape the pardon of Caesar."
With one great stroke he drove it out and into the flood, then headed away towards the mists and colors of the distant hills, where the Oreads were calling to him. He turned for one last look, and flung his paddle high; then, fearing lest they might see the tears that came at last unhindered, he began to sing: "Chante, rossignol, chante!
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