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Updated: June 17, 2025
This hut, this fire, the figure by the hearth in a sound sleep-his hand went to his head: it felt the bandage there! He remembered now! Last night at the Cote Dorion! Last night he had talked with Suzon Charlemagne at the Cote Dorion; last night he had drunk harder than he had ever drunk in his life, he had defied, chaffed, insulted the river-drivers.
She has come to take me, but I will not go." Fantasy after fantasy possessed him- fantasy, strangely mixed with facts of his own past. Now it was Kathleen, now Billy, now Jo Portugais, now John Brown, now Suzon Charlemagne at the Cote Dorion, again Jo Portugais. In strange, touching sentences he spoke to them, as though they were present before him.
When the lights were up again the room was empty, save for Theophile Charlemagne, Jake Hough, and Suzon, who lay in a faint on the floor with a nasty bruise on her forehead. A score of river-drivers were scattering into the country-side, and somewhere in the black river, alive or dead, was Charley Steele.
Yet there were people who called the tavern a "shebang" slander as it was against Suzon Charlemagne, which every river-driver and woodsman and habitant who frequented the place would have resented with violence. It was because they thought Charley Steele slandered the girl and the place in his mind, that the river-drivers had sworn they would make it hot for him if he came again.
They did not recover themselves until they saw him lift his glass to Suzon, his back on them, again insolently oblivious of them all. They could not see his face, but they could see the face of Suzon Charlemagne, and they misunderstood the light in her eye, the flush on her cheek. They set it down to a personal interest in Charley Steele.
"Why do I drink, do you say?" he added, as Suzon placed the bottle and glass before him. She was silent for an instant, then she said gravely: "Perhaps because you like it; perhaps because something was left out of you when you were made, and " She paused and went no further, for a red-shirted river-driver with brass rings in his ears came close to them, and called gruffly for whiskey.
Seine, dashed into the Val Suzon, and after an hour's conflict with the Garibaldians, drove them out and established themselves on the heights of Daix toward two o'clock. Before them were the rugged summits of Talant and Fontaine, the last spurs of the Jura Mountains seen in the blue distances both of them crowned, by old villages, whose outer walls looked down a thousand feet below.
This tavern's the only place I have to think in, and what seems to you funny is a sort of ordinary fact to me." "Right again, ma belle Suzon. Nothing's incongruous. I've never felt so much like singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs as when I've been drinking.
She has wisdom in the raw, and a real grip on life, and yet all the men she has known have been river-drivers and farmers, and a few men from town who mistook the sort of Suzon she is. Virtuous and straight, she's a born child of Aphrodite too by nature. She was made for love. A thousand years ago she would have had a thousand loves!
"Now, marquess," said Don Estevon de Suzon, "what wager shall be between us as to which lance this day robs Moorish beauty of the greatest number of its worshippers?" "My falchion against your jennet," said Don Alonzo de Pacheco, taking up the challenge. "Agreed.
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