Children -- Juvenile fiction; Children's stories; Historical fiction
Shortly after their arrival the coach itself dashed into the middle of
the courtyard with a great clatter of hoofs and wheels, followed by a
long train of mounted and liveried servants, and lackeys, and pages,
and men-at-arms; for traveling in those days was none too safe without
a guard of spearmen and lancers. The coach was painted a bright yellow
and richly gilded; on the panels of its doors the count’s crest and
coat of arms were blazoned in blue and crimson; and no sooner had its
wheels stopped than the lackeys jumped from their horses and, running
to its side, flung open the doors, which they respectfully held back as
still others assisted the nobleman to alight.
Count Hugo was a heavily-built man of middle age, with cold, cruel
eyes, and mustachios of grisly gray; he was richly dressed in a green
velvet suit with crimson satin facings and ruffles of the finest lace;
his shoe buckles sparkled with diamonds. Geoffrey, who from a quiet
corner was watching everything, involuntarily clenched his fists as he
saw the evil-omened sword, encased in an elaborately-wrought scabbard,
poking hatefully out from under the tail of the count’s beautiful
velvet coat.
As Hugo, followed by his retinue, crossed the courtyard, there was a
great bowing and scraping from Monsieur Jean and all the inn servants;
the peacocks spread their gorgeous tails and screamed at the tops of
their voices; the pigeons puffed and pouted and strutted about; the
cockatoo shrieked loudly and flourished his silver spoon; and the
rabbits ran away with their ears flat to their heads with fright, and
hid under the cabbage leaves in the garden until the commotion of the
count’s arrival had somewhat subsided.
But at last the great man had been ushered into his rooms, where he had
breakfasted on the most elaborate products of the cooks’ skill; while
on the spits in the great inn kitchen huge haunches of venison and
beef were turning and browning in front of the blazing fire, and the
white-capped and aproned scullions were running about with big ladles
and spoons in their hands making ready the dinner for the large company
of guests.
Geoffrey had, at their bidding, done many errands, and last of all had
brought up from the garden a great basket of vegetables. He had wished,
as he tragically jerked them out of the ground and brandished them in
the air, that each separate carrot, leek and radish might stick in
Count Hugo’s wicked throat, and stay there forever! Now at length tired
out, he sat down to rest on his bench under the plane-tree.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account