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Weyman, Stanley John, 1855-1928

"Count Hannibal A Romance of the Court of France"

Nor was the Countess the only one whose
face glowed, being set southwards, or whose heart pulsed to the rhythm of
the horses' hoofs that beat out "Home!" Carlat's and Madame Carlat's
also. Javette even, hearing from her neighbour that they were over the
Loire, plucked up courage; while La Tribe, gazing before him with
moistened eyes, cried "Comfort" to the scared and weeping girl who clung
to his belt. It was singular to see how all sniffed the air as if
already it smacked of the sea and of the south; and how they of Poitou
sat their horses as if they asked nothing better than to ride on and on
and on until the scenes of home arose about them. For them the sky had
already a deeper blue, the air a softer fragrance, the sunshine a purity
long unknown.
Was it wonderful, when they had suffered so much on that northern bank?
When their experience during the month had been comparable only with the
direst nightmare? Yet one among them, after the first impulse of relief
and satisfaction, felt differently. Tignonville's gorge rose against the
sense of compulsion, of inferiority. To be driven forward after this
fashion, whether he would or no, to be placed at the back of every base-
born man-at-arms, to have no clearer knowledge of what had happened or of
what was passing, or of the peril from which they fled, than the women
among whom he rode--these things kindled anew the sullen fire of hate.


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