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"It is nothing but a cloud; some exhalation from the low grounds in that quarter," whispered one. "To me," said another, "they look like trees, part of the Bois de Wavre." "They are men," said the Emperor, speaking for the first time. "Est-ce Grouchy? Est-ce Blucher?"
Bonaparte entered the room, a stout, handsome man covered with orders eagerly exclaimed, "Qui est-ce? qui est-ce?" "La première femme de Jérome Bonaparte," replied the princess Gallitzin. It was Duke William of Würtemberg, uncle of Jerome's second wife.
"Mais pourquoi? pourquoi vous en aller?" exclaimed the simple woman, with an air of consternation; "est-ce que vous n'etes pas bien ici?" Bourg St. Andeol, where we stopped next, is a very interesting place. My husband was particularly pleased with the little town and the Hotel Nicolai.
This reminds me of poor Blucher's note to the landlord in Paris: PARIS, le 7 Juillet. Monsieur le Landlord Sir: Pourquoi don't you mettez some savon in your bed-chambers? Est-ce que vous pensez I will steal it?
Hippolyte thinks we are awfully greedy; he was heard yesterday grumbling to the Baronne's maid, "Mais où diable est-ce que ces dames mettent tout ce qu'elles mangent? Elles goblottent toute la journée!" After dinner we drank our coffee on the terrace and listened to the band.
"Hé, monsieur," tried the black-eyed dame of the auberge, leaning over the rail of the verandah, as he passed: "ou donc est madame? Est-ce qu'elle ne revient pas?" "Madame est partie," said Alan continuing his walk without turning round. The aubergiste looked after him in amaze. Where could madame have gone?
Madame de Guercheville came forth, followed by the women of her household; and when the King, unprepared for so benign a welcome, giddy with love and hope, saw her radiant in pearls and more radiant yet in a beauty enhanced by the wavy torchlight and the surrounding shadows, he scarcely dared trust his senses: "Que vois-je, madame; est-ce bien vous, et suis-je ce roi meprise?"
I suppose five minutes might have elapsed, and the hush remained unbroken; ten and there was no sound. Many present began, doubtless, to wonder for what Monsieur waited; as well they might. Voiceless and viewless, stirless and wordless, he kept his station behind the pile of flowers. At last there issued forth a voice, rather deep, as if it spoke out of a hollow: "Est-ce la tout?"
Passez-moi le beurre, s'il vous plait, Mellicent, ma tres chere. J'aime beaucoup le beurre, quand il est frais. Est-ce que vous aimez le beurre plus de la, I forget at the moment how you translate jam, il fait tres beau, ce apres-midi, n'est pas?" She was so absolutely, imperturbably grave that no one dared to laugh.
There is a walk, straight as a ship's wake in smooth water, and one two three ay, eleven statues, with just one nose among them all!" "Ma foi dere is not no wood, and no château and no village, and no statue, and no no nose, mais Monsieur, je suis agé est-ce la France?" "Oh, you miss nothing by having an indifferent sight, for I shall explain it all, as we go along.
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