The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and EugeneStrang, Herbert
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The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene
Strang, Herbert
Blenheim, Battle of, Blindheim, Bavaria, Germany, 1704 -- Juvenile fiction
"I saw them going down the drive. And my man knows how to take care of
himself," said Harry. "They will not trouble you again at present. And
now, Madame, as I have Mynheer Grootz’s packet in the ante-room, if you
will allow me to place it in your hands I will take my leave and proceed
on my way."
"Mon Dieu, non!" cried the lady. "You must allow me to give you some
refreshment, and your brave man too—if he is really safe! Jean," she
called to the servant, "bring wine and cakes and fruit to the
drawing-room. But first see if this gentleman’s servant is safe."
"He is, Madame," replied the man at once. "The men from the stables and
the garden were coming to the door: Mademoiselle had fetched them: and
they were too many for Monsieur de Polignac and the other."
"How thankful I am! Bring the brave man up with you. Now, Monsieur—I
do not know your name?"
"It is Harry Rochester, Madame; I am English."
"Indeed! Come into the drawing-room and rest. Jean will bring
something to eat and drink immediately."
She led the way into the room, gave Harry a comfortable chair, and sat
opposite to him, folding her plump hands on her lap, and heaving a sigh
of satisfaction and relief. The servant soon reappeared with a tray,
and when Madame de Vaudrey had seen Harry supplied with drink and food
that pleased him, she dismissed her man, read the letter Mynheer Grootz
had enclosed with his gift, and began to talk.
"You are English? That is interesting. My dear husband’s mother was
English, so that my daughter has a little—a very little, of
course—English blood in her. I cannot tell you how thankful I am that
you came when you did. That is also another debt I owe to Mynheer
Grootz. He writes very amiable things of you. I was at my wits’ end,
Monsieur Rochestair; I will tell you about it.—Do you like that wine?"
"Thank you, it is excellent."
"I am so glad! You speak French very well for an Englishman. My
daughter wishes to learn English. She takes after her father, not after
me. I wonder where she is?"
Harry followed her glance to the door; he too had wondered what had
become of the tall girl who had shown so much decisiveness of character
at an awkward moment. But she did not appear.
"Well," continued the amiable hostess, "let me tell you all about it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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