One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri QuatreJames, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
History
One in a Thousand; or, The Days of Henri Quatre
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
France -- History -- Henry IV, 1589-1610 -- Fiction
The meal did not occupy much time; and after it was concluded, St.
Real, anxious to hear something more precise concerning the state of
the capital, and to obtain some information in regard to his own
situation, endeavoured to enter into conversation with the monk; but
the course of all their thoughts lay in such different lines, that he
soon perceived the attempt would be in vain. The Dominican sat and
listened, and replied either by monosyllables, or by long fanatical
tirades, in general totally irrelevant to the topic which called them
forth; and, as twilight began to grow upon the world, the young
Marquis abandoned the endeavour, and intimated, by his silence, a
desire to be left alone. It was long before the other gratified his
inclination in this respect, however, but sat mute and absent, still
turning over the leaves of his breviary, and gazing, from time to
time, upon the face of his companion. Nor was it till St. Real
expressed his desire to have a lamp, and to be left to his own
thoughts, that the monk deemed it advisable to retire.
Fatigued in body and mind by the events of the day, St. Real soon cast
himself down to rest; and sleep was not long in visiting his eyelids.
His slumber was profound also; and he awoke not till various sounds in
the immediate vicinity of his chamber disturbed his repose somewhat
rudely.
The nature of the first noises that roused him he could not very well
distinguish, for slumber, though in flight, still held, in some
degree, possession of his senses. They seemed, however, as far as he
could remember afterwards, to have proceeded from some smart blows of
a hammer upon a wooden scaffolding; but, before he was well awake,
those sounds had ceased, and a buzzing hum, like that of a turner's
wheel, or a quickly moved saw, had succeeded. St. Real listened
attentively; and, having convinced himself that the noises, by
whatever they were occasioned, were not produced by anything in his
own chamber, but rather seemed to proceed from some part of the
building opposite his window, he addressed himself to sleep again, and
not without success.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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