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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"

My arms are all gone to fat. And you
must promise not to blame me, if I fall and play the devil with the
whole thing.'
'We cannot hear of such a thing!' said I. 'M. Laclas is the oldest
man here; and, as such, he should be the very last to offer. It is
plain, we must draw lots.'
'No,' said M. Laclas; 'you put something else in my head! There is
one here who owes a pretty candle to the others, for they have kept
his secret. Besides, the rest of us are only rabble; and he is
another affair altogether. Let Champdivers--let the noble go the
first.'
I confess there was a notable pause before the noble in question
got his voice. But there was no room for choice. I had been so
ill-advised, when I first joined the regiment, as to take ground on
my nobility. I had been often rallied on the matter in the ranks,
and had passed under the by-names of Monseigneur and the Marquis.
It was now needful I should justify myself and take a fair revenge.
Any little hesitation I may have felt passed entirely unnoticed,
from the lucky incident of a round happening at that moment to go
by. And during the interval of silence there occurred something
that sent my blood to the boil. There was a private in our shed
called Clausel, a man of a very ugly disposition. He had made one
of the followers of Goguelat; but, whereas Goguelat had always a
kind of monstrous gaiety about him, Clausel was no less morose than
he was evil-minded.


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