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Stephens, Robert Neilson, 1867-1906

"An Enemy to the King"

Doubtless the gladness that shone
in my eyes told her what was in my heart. Realizing that her frank and
gentle demonstration of solicitude was a confession to be received with
ineffable delight by the man to whom it was tendered, she dropped her
eyes and a deep blush overspread her face. For some time no word passed
between us; enough had been said. I knew that the look in my eyes had
told more, a thousand times, than all the extravagant compliments with
which I had, half banteringly, deluged her at the inn.
We might, by hard riding, have reached Maury on the night of that day,
but mademoiselle's comfort was to be considered, and, moreover, I desired
to throw De Berquin off our track before going to our hiding-place.
Therefore, when Clochonne was yet some leagues before us, we turned into
a by-way, and stopped at an obscure inn at the end of a small village.
This hostelry was a mere hut, consisting of a kitchen and one other
apartment, and was kept by an old couple as stupid and avaricious as any
of their class. The whole place, such as it was, was at our disposal. The
one private room was given over to mademoiselle and Jeannotte for the
night, it being decided that I and Blaise should share the kitchen with
the inn-keeper and his wife, while the two boys should sleep in an outer
shed with the horses.
Roused from sluggishness by the sight of a gold piece, which Blaise
displayed, the old couple succeeded in getting for us a passable supper,
which we had served to us on the end of an old wine-butt outside the inn,
as the kitchen was intolerably smoky.


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