Alfred de Rosann by G.W.M. Reynolds — page 55: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

42 Alfred de Rosann. ‘¢ Kind creature! I want for nothing.” ‘A glass of wine?” ‘+O no—I seldom touch any thing strong; my habits are naturally temperate.” ‘¢ A single glass—merely to recruit your spirits,” persisted the girl tenderly. . Well—one glass, then—but only one.” Felicité was about to disappear, to seek the lower regions of the house (or in other words the cellar), when Belle-Rose called her back. ‘« My love—for whom are those roasted fowls ?” ‘QO we shall keep them till they’re cold, for any one who happens to drop in during the day, to take a hasty morsel.”’ ‘‘ Alas! ’tis a long time since I tasted meat; and for a whole fortnight I have eaten nothing at all,” said the convict mournfully. a Will you have those fowls? for I’m certain that if mother were here, she would willingly give them to you; and at her return from market, she’ll applaud me for what I am doing.” ‘¢ Since you offer so kindly, I must e’en accept them,” said Belle-Rose, a smile of triumph playing upon his lips. ‘ But, stay, my love: do you wrap them up in paper, and I'll consign them to my pockets on the sly; for the Gendarmes must not be allowed to catch a glimpse of our motions.” ‘¢ They are very severe, then ?” ‘¢ Yes—in the town they are obliged to be so: when no stranger's eyes are upon us, we may do as we like.” Felicité soon robbed the spit of its savoury burden; and having enveloped the fowls in paper, she cunningly transferred them to Belle-Rose’s pockets, while his comrades turned away their eyes, affecting the utmost ignorance of the whole transaction. ‘¢ What shall I say to mother for you, uncle?” enquired the girl, when the above ceremony of conveyance was accomplished. ‘‘ Say!—say anything you like—that is, every thing kind and tender, my love; and rest assured God will prosper you for what you have done.” ‘¢ Do you really think God saw me give you those fowls, and that he will bless me for it?” ‘Most certainly: and the more you give, the more he will favour your undertakings through life. By the bye, my dear niece—on second thoughts—since you are so kind—although my habits be sober, and I rarely drink aught save pure spring water—still I may as well accept a glass of wine—for my legs are weak, and my strength is declining—and to-night I will remember you in my prayers.” oo The wine was tendered with as good a grace as were the fowls- and Champignon undertook to carry a bottle, on a hint being given him to that effect by Belle-Rose, whose pockets were already full. In about a quarter of an hour the Gendarmes finished their last glass of piquetie, and pushed aside the cold beef off which they had abundantly fed, although Champignon did mutter between his teeth that it would have been better in a friceau. They then called for COnicbooolks (GO)