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Updated: June 8, 2025
"No, Sire; your Majesty ever occupied the first place in my admiration and devotion." "Sacristi! then you took a strange way to show it when first I had the pleasure of your acquaintance. You are on General St. Hilaire's staff?" "General d'Auvergne's, Sire." "True. D'Auvergne, a word with you."
Sacristi!there was no more about it than that; and they made a prize of us at once. "But our captain was not one of that mould, and he answered by beating to quarters; and just as the 'Blanche' swept past, up flew our ports, and eight carronades threw in a fire of grape along her deck that made them dance to the music. Diable! the fun was short, though.
Sacristi, answered his antagonist, we shall be interrupted: the guard will be upon us in a moment. The first however was resolute, and in an imperious voice again bade him draw. Their swords were instantly out, and they began to assault each other. Thou mayst imagine, Oliver, I would not cowardly stand and be a spectator of murder. They were not twenty paces from me.
"And big bad luck to ye, Major Jones, for the same, every day ye see a paving stone," was the faint sub-audible ejaculation of Father Luke, when he was recovered enough to speak. "Sacristi! Que nous sommes attrappes," said the Abbe, scarcely able to avoid laughing at the situation in which they were placed. "Well, there's the quarter chiming now; we've no time to lose Major Jones! Major, darling!
Eh bien! sacristi," and the statement, waxing louder, rolls off into a reverberation of oaths, the speaker glaring about for sympathy, and everybody nodding his head to him in the name of peace. The ruddy Northman told some tales of his own prowess in keeping order: notably one of a Marquis. "Marquis," I said, "if you take another step I fire upon you. You have committed a dirtiness, Marquis."
The thing his foot had touched was a bundle a rolled and well-wrapped blanket, tied with a stout string. The sharp cry he had heard he now realized, issued from the folds of the blanket. Garron bent over it, his thumb and forefinger uncovering the face of a baby. "Sacristi!" he stammered then leaned back heavily against the old rudder of a door. Julie heard and crawled out of bed.
There are ducks off the point. Where's Suzette? Where's the coffee? Sacristi! What a house. Half-past four and nobody awake!"
Occasionally he wrote home, and his letters always delighted his old parents. As he tied his cravat at the mirror he repeated: "I must write home to-morrow. If my father could see me this evening in the house to which I am going, he would be surprised. Sacristi, I shall soon give a dinner which has never been equaled!" Then he recalled his old home, the faces of his father and mother.
Several times already her husband, surprised to see her sit down as if she were dropping into her chair, and to hear her gasp as if she could not draw her breath, had said: "Really, Louise, you look very ill; you tire yourself too much with helping Jean. Give yourself a little rest. Sacristi! The rascal is in no hurry, as he is a rich man." She shook her head without a word.
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