Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot WarsHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
France -- History -- Wars of the Huguenots, 1562-1598 -- Fiction
"They are big men, these English, Emilie; and his father is big,
even among them. But, as you say, save in size Philip takes after
our side rather than his father's; and of course he has mixed so
much with our colony at Canterbury that, in spite of his being
English bred, we have preserved in him something of the French
manner, and I think his heart is fairly divided between the two
countries."
"Let us go in," the countess said. "You need rest and refreshment
after your journey, and I long to have a quiet talk with you.
"Francois, do you take charge of your cousin. I have told the
serving men to let you have a meal in your own apartments, and then
you can show him over the chateau and the stables."
Francois and Philip bowed to the two ladies, and then went off
together.
"That is good," the young count said, laying his hand on Philip's
shoulder; "now we shall get to know each other. You will not be
angry, I hope, when I tell you that, though I have looked forward
to seeing my aunt and you, I have yet been a little anxious in my
mind. I do not know why, but I have always pictured the English as
somewhat rough and uncouth--as doughty fighters, for so they have
shown themselves to our cost, but as somewhat deficient in the
graces of manner--and when I heard that my aunt was bringing you
over, to leave you for a time with us, since you longed to fight in
the good cause, I have thought--pray, do not be angry with me, for
I feel ashamed of myself now--" and he hesitated.
"That I should be a rough cub, whom you would be somewhat ashamed
of introducing to your friends as your cousin," Philip laughed. "I
am not surprised. English boys have ideas just as erroneous about
the French, and it was a perpetual wonder to my schoolfellows that,
being half French, I was yet as strong and as tough as they were.
Doubtless I should have been somewhat different, had I not lived so
much with my uncle and aunt and the Huguenot community at
Canterbury. Monsieur Vaillant and my aunt have always impressed
upon me that I belong to a noble French family, and might some day
come over here to stay with my relations; and have taken much pains
with my deportment and manners, and have so far succeeded that I am
always called 'Frenchy' among my English companions, though in
their own games and sports I could hold my own with any of them."
"And can you ride, Philip?"
"I can sit on any horse, but I have had no opportunity of learning
the menage."
"That matters little, after all," Francois said; "though it is an
advantage to be able to manage your horse with a touch of the heel,
or the slightest pressure of the rein, and to make him wheel and
turn at will, while leaving both arms free to use your weapons. You
have learned to fence?"
"Yes. There were some good masters among the colony, and many a
lesson have I had from old soldiers passing through, who paid for a
week's hospitality by putting me up to a few tricks with the
sword."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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