Belle Rose: A Romance of the Cloak and Sword — page 267: what you’re looking at

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

AN ENGLISH HUSBAND, 251 disdainful air. ‘‘Ah, come! what sort of a man is he, then?”’ ‘*A man almost of my stature and my air, who handles the sword passably well, and who passes for a very honest soldier. ’’ ‘Ah! ah! and it is this gentleman who has made himself loved by Madame d’Albergotti?”’ ‘She still loves him, then?’’ exclaimed Belle-Rose, in a voice filled with emotion. ‘‘Does she love him? Say, rather, that she adores him. It is incredible that women should have such ideas. I who speak to you, a count, a relative of Monsieur de Louvois, and who will have a regiment some day, have been re- fused by Madame d’Albergotti.”’ ‘“Noble heart!’’ said Belle-Rose, in a low tone. ‘‘Ah! you think so!’’ said Monsieur de Pomereux, who had heard him. ‘‘Well, faith! I have done like you—and what is stranger, it is that Il have come to esteem her much. Yes, upon my word. She has appeared to me so simple, so chaste in all things that I have fallen unre- servedly in love with her.’’ ‘Ah, bah!’’ said Cornelius, who pressed Belle-Rose’s arm, ‘Faith, ’tis true, or almost so. The duse! I am a gentle- man, and I do not wish her to die in a convent.’’ ‘She shall not die there,’’ said Belle-Rose, in a deep tone. “‘That is also my opinion,’’ said Monsieur de Pomereux; ‘‘unfortunately it is not the opinion of a certain Monsieur de Charny, to whom my precious cousin has committed the care of this affair.’’ ‘‘Monsieur de Charny?’’ repeated Belle-Rose. ‘‘A certain rascal capable of everything, venomous as a viper, and tenacious as glue. When he is in conference with | Monsieur de Louvois, I am always afraid for some one.’ ‘But what harm has Madame d’Albergotti done him?’’ *“‘Him? nothing; but Monsieur de Charny is a man who shares the hates of the minister as one does those of a mistress. ”’ “‘What a wretch!’’ said Cornelius. ‘‘He is a wretch such as is necessary, they say, to the viziers given us by the caprice of our gracious monarch; mute as the tomb, ready at any hour, impenetrable as night. Eh! messieurs! these scoundrels have their uses. (C(O) Mmicooo S (e(0) =)