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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

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


Blaming myself, even as I did so, for the indiscretion, I embraced
his proposal, and we were soon face to face over a tankard of
mulled ale. He lowered his voice to the least attenuation of a
whisper.
'Here, sir,' said he, 'is to the Great Man. I think you take me?
No?' He leaned forward till our noses touched. 'Here is to the
Emperor!' said he.
I was extremely embarrassed, and, in spite of the creature's
innocent appearance, more than half alarmed. I thought him too
ingenious, and, indeed, too daring for a spy. Yet if he were
honest he must be a man of extraordinary indiscretion, and
therefore very unfit to be encouraged by an escaped prisoner. I
took a half course, accordingly--accepted his toast in silence, and
drank it without enthusiasm.
He proceeded to abound in the praises of Napoleon, such as I had
never heard in France, or at least only on the lips of officials
paid to offer them.
'And this Caffarelli, now,' he pursued: 'he is a splendid fellow,
too, is he not? I have not heard vastly much of him myself. No
details, sir--no details! We labour under huge difficulties here
as to unbiassed information.'
'I believe I have heard the same complaint in other countries,' I
could not help remarking. 'But as to Caffarelli, he is neither
lame nor blind, he has two legs and a nose in the middle of his
face.


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