Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 264: what you’re looking at

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

248 AN ENGLISH HUSBAND. This little fight has warmed me up, and I should not be vexed, besides, to see if the swords of those good fellows have not scratched something else besides my coat.”’ Belle-Rose and Cornelius conducted the Frenchman to their lodgings, where they found Claudine much disturbed and waiting for them upon the door-step. When the light in the room struck them, they perceived that Belle-Rose had his shirt and trousers all covered with blood. ‘‘Are you wounded?’’ the stranger cried. ‘1 do not think so, monsieur; it is a recent wound which has opened again during the action. ‘‘It is still blood shed for me,’’ said the stranger; ‘‘blood is a tie that unites.”’ And he extended his hand to Belle-Rose, who pressed it. After examination, the stranger found that he had five or six scratches; his cloak, having done nearly all the parry- ing, was horribly torn. ‘‘Messieurs,’’ said the stranger, saluting, ‘‘I am the Comte de Pomereux, envoy of Monsieur de Louvois.”’ At this announcement the two friends exchanged a rapid glance. ‘*In faith, monsieur,’’ replied Belle-Rose, ‘‘will you par- don me if I do not imitate your frankness? I am a French- man, like yourself, but grave motives oblige me to conceal my name.’’ ‘The arm answers for the heart,’’ said Monsieur de Pomereux; ‘‘the rest does not concern me.”’ At the name of Monsieur de Pomereux, Claudine had trembled and furtively looked at him. She went about the room, preparing glasses of sugared wine and com- presses; then, when everything was ready, she withdrew, fearing to be recognized by the count, who had seen her sometimes at Malzonvilliers. This might be a vexatious discovery on the part of an envoy of Monsieur de Louvois. ‘*Monsieur,’’ said Monsieur de Pomereux, addressing himself to Cornelius, when Claudine had moved away, ‘‘the people of your nation—for, by your accent, I imagine that you are English——’’ ‘Trish, monsieur,’’ replied Cornelius. ‘*Exactly; I only missed it by a strait; the people of your nation, I say, have strange manners. I came near being killed because it seemed to me that certain women of this country had the impertinence to be as pretty as Frenchwomen.’”’ ‘What! for that only?’’ said Belle-Rose. ; **Kh! my God! yes. It is a supposition of which I know ’