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Updated: May 1, 2025
Yet much time passed, and de Rougemont did not return. The evidences that the great French army was marching to the point designated in the note brought by Lannes multiplied. From the crest of the hill he already saw large bodies of troops marching forward steadily, their long blue coats flapping awkwardly about their legs.
But, just as he predicted, he'll rise, his old self again." Captain de Rougemont hurried away, and John was left alone in the midst of a great army. He stood before Lannes' tent, which was in the midst of a grassy and rather elevated opening, and he heard once more the infinite sounds made by two hundred thousand armed men, blending into one vast, fused note.
A little distant from the plantation of Boucaline are the grounds of the royal grant, covered with more than ten thousand feet of cotton. This beautiful plantation, established by the care of M. Roger, now governor of Senegal, is at present directed by M. Rougemont with a zeal above all praise.
Doubtless she had just arrived from Rougemont, and, after disposing of the batch of nurses she had brought with her, was seeking sustenance for the various visits which she would have to make before returning home. The refectory, with its wine-stained tables and greasy walls, cast a smell like that of a badly-kept sink.
It was spirit and patriotism against the monstrous machine of fire and steel, and he trembled lest the machine could overcome anything in the world. He was about to shout again to de Rougemont, but his words were lost in the rending crash of the French artillery. Their batteries were posted on both sides of him, and they, too, had found the range.
Yankees you all are and Yankee you shall remain. It's a fine name, and from what I've seen in this war you're great fighting men, worthy to stand with Frenchmen." "Thank you for the compliment, General," said John, smiling. "Hereafter I shall always remain a Yankee." "And now do you and your friends take your food there with de Rougemont. I've had my breakfast, and a big and good one it was.
You might visit all the houses in the village, and you would find the same thing everywhere. There isn't a house where the trade isn't carried on. Round our part there are places where folks make lace, or make cheese, or make cider; but at Rougemont they only make dead bodies." * There is no exaggeration in what M. Zola writes on this subject.
Assuming the kindly demeanor of one who dotes on children, the air which she always put on to prevail over hesitating mothers, she replied: "Oh, Rougemont is such a very pretty place. And then it's not far from Bayeux, so that folks are by no means savages there. The air is so pure, too, that people come there to recruit their health.
I'm to rest here an hour, which will be sufficient to restore me, and then I'm off again." "Is there any rule against your telling me what you've seen, Philip?" De Rougemont and several other officers had approached, drawn by their curiosity, and interest in Lannes. "None at all," he replied in a tone all could hear, "but I'm able to speak in general terms only.
It was at Rougemont, no doubt, that she planned her return to the Seguins, of whose vicissitudes she was informed by La Couteau, the latter having kept up her intercourse with Madame Menoux, the little haberdasher of the neighborhood.
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