"Ay, that's it," thought the sailor. "She is following him as a pirate
follows a merchantman. Then, when she has lost sight of him, she will
be in despair at not knowing who it is she is in love with, and
whether he is a marquis or a shopkeeper. Really these young heads need
an old fogy like me always by their side . . ."
He unexpectedly spurred his horse in such a way as to make his niece's
bolt, and rode so hastily between her and the young man on foot that
he obliged him to fall back on to the grassy bank which rose from the
roadside. Then, abruptly drawing up, the Count exclaimed:
"Couldn't you get out of the way?"
"I beg your pardon, monsieur. But I did not know that it lay with me
to apologize to you because you almost rode me down."
"There, enough of that, my good fellow!" replied the sailor harshly,
in a sneering tone that was nothing less than insulting. At the same
time the Count raised his hunting-crop as if to strike his horse, and
touched the young fellow's shoulder, saying, "A liberal citizen is a
reasoner; every reasoner should be prudent."
The young man went up the bankside as he heard the sarcasm; then he
crossed his arms, and said in an excited tone of voice, "I cannot
suppose, monsieur, as I look at your white hairs, that you still amuse
yourself by provoking duels----"
"White hairs!" cried the sailor, interrupting him. "You lie in your
throat.
Pages:
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57