our death, he played the rich man; promised to pay these people whatever they wished for our entertainment, and for our guides the next day. 7. Then he spoke of his valise, begging them to take particular care of it, and to put it at the head of his bed; for he did not wish, he said, any other pillow. O youth, youth, thou art to be pitied! Cousin, one would have thought we carried the crown diamonds. All that there was in my comrade's valise to cause so great solicitude' was—a bundle of his sweetheart's letters! 8. Supper over, our hosts left us. They slept bēlōw, we in the room above that where we had supped. A loft, to which we had to mount seven or eight feet by a ladder, was the resting-place that awaited us. It was a sort of nest, into which we were to introduce ourselves by creeping under cross-beams loaded with provisions for the whole year. My companion climbed up ǎlōne, and, already half asleep, threw himself down with his head upon the precious valise. 9. As for myself, I determined to watch; and, having made a good fire, I sat down near it. The night, which had been undisturbed, was at length near its end. Just before the break of day, when almost reassured, I heard our host and his wife talking and disputing below. Listening intently at the chimney, which communicated with the one in the lower room, I distinctly heard the husband utter these words: “Well, come now, must we kill them bōth ?" The wife replied, Yes," and I heard no more. 2 66 10. How shall I go on? I stood scarcely breathing, my whōle body cold as marble. To have seen me, you would not have known whether I was dead or alive. Horrible!3 when I but think of it, even now! We two, without weapons, against twelve or fifteen who had so many! And my companion half dead with sleep and fatigue! To call him-to make the slightest noise-I dared not; to escape alone was impossible: the window was not very high from the ground; but beneath it, howling like wolves, were two savage bull-dogs. Imagine, if you can, the agony of my situation. 4 1 So lic' i tūde, anxious care; uneasiness of mind caused by the fear of evil or the desire of good. 2 Heard (hård). 3 Hŏr ri ble, causing, or tending to cause, a shuddering; frightful. 4 Ag' o ny, extreme or very great pain of body or mind. 11. At the end of a long quarter of an hour, I heard some one on the stairs, and, through the crack of the door, I saw the father with his lamp in one hand, and in the other one of his large knives. Up he came, his wife after him, I behind the door: he opened it; but, before he came in, he put down the lamp, which his wife took. As he entered, barefoot, from outside, the woman said to him, in a low voice, shading the light with her hand, "Softly, go softly." 12. When he got to the ladder, he mounted it, holding his knife between his teeth. Approaching the head of the bed, where my poor young friend, with throat bare, was lying,-with one hand the monster grasped the knife, and with the other— ah! cousin-he seized a ham which hung from the ceiling, cut a slice, and retired as he had come. The door closed again, the lamp disappeared, and I was left alone to my reflections. 13. As soon as day dawned, all the family came bustling to waken us, as we had requested. They brought us a very clean and a very good breakfast, I assure you. Two chickens formed part of it, of which we must, said our hōstèss,' eat one, and take ǎway the other. Seeing these, I at length understood the meaning of those terrible words, "MUST WE KILL THEM BOTH?” And I think now, cousin, you too will have penetration cnough to guess what they signified. 14. Cousin, oblige me by not telling this story. In the first place, as you can not fail to see, I do not play a věry enviable part in it. In the next place, you would spoil it. Truly, I do not flatter: that face of yours would ruin the recital. As for myself, without boasting, I have just the countenance one ought to have in relating a tale of terror. 1 Hōst' ess, a woman who receives and kindly entertains guests at her house; a female innkeeper. 'Paul Louis Courier, an able French scholar and writer, born in Paris, Jan. 4, 1772, and murdered by his game-keeper, Frémont, near his COURIER.? country-seat, at Veretz, April 10, 1825. Courier's pamphlets are masterpieces of style. They have been published, together with his translations from the Greek, and other works, in Paris, 1834, in four volumes, and since reprinted in one volume. PART FIRST-MORNING. In thee bu partiet perched on high, N the barn the tenant cock, 1 Pastoral (pås' tor al), a poem describing country life, especially the life and manners of shepherds. 2 Part' let, a ruff, band, or collar, for the neck, formerly worn by women; a hen, so called from the ruffling of her feathers, forming a sort of ring or ruff about her neck. Briskly crows, (the shepherd's clock!) Plaintive3 where she prates at night: Soars beyond the shepherd's sight. 6. From the balmy sweets, uncloyed 5 7. Trickling through the creviced rock, 8. Colin's for the promised corn (Ere the harvest hopes are ripe) 9. Sweet, oh sweet, the warbling throng, Echoes to the rising day. 1 Jŏờ und, lively; merry. Dǎp' pled, marked with spots of different shades of color; spotted. |