A Gentleman from Gascony: A Romance of the Huguenots — page 159: what you’re looking at

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

IN FROCK AND COWL. 155 Madame de Bassompierre had turned and was ap- proaching them. Raoul hastily drew his cowl well over his face. “Benedicite, holy father,” said the duchess, as the apparent monk bowed low before her. “I would pur- chase your prayers not for myself, but,” with an effort, “for my son.” As she spoke, she drew a purse from a pocket that hung at her girdle and placed it in Raoul’s hands. Then taking Gabrielle’s arm as if for support, she moved slowly away. The chevalier watched the two retreating figures, hoping, but in vain, for one backward glance from the blue eyes he loved so well. | The purse slipped from his unresisting fingers and fell with a clatter upon the stone step. He was startled by a heavy hand falling with a clap upon his back, and Sergeant Goujon’s voice rumbled in his ear: “Hola! holy father, how long is it since frock and cowl have grown so careless of the good things of this world as to leave a well-filled purse lying idle in the streets?” And he stooped and picked up the purse in question, jingling the gold pieces merrily. Realizing his danger the chevalier attempted to pass on, but Goujon caught him by his frock. “Nay, nay, holy father,” he protested, in a chuckling tone. “Why such haste? The hour of matins is past. Let us away to a wine-shop, and spend a gold piece of the duchess’ alms upon a good fat capon and a flagon of the best.” “Such carnal pleasures are not for me, my son,” re- turned Raoul, assuming the voice of old age, and at CoOMmicaooxs (¢@)