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Henty, G. A. (George Alfred), 1832-1902

"A Tale of Marlborough's Wars"


"I know some people here," he said, turning to the officers. "They
will take us four in, and the men must picket their horses in the
courtyard and street, and lie down in their cloaks. Tomorrow we
will see what is to be done, and how many have escaped from the
terrible debacle."
The streets of Louvain were crowded with fugitives, some of them
had thrown themselves down by the sidewalks, utterly exhausted;
others mingled with the anxious townsmen, and related the incidents
of the disastrous day; while the horses stood, with drooping heads,
huddled together along the middle of the street. It was only by
making long detours that the Marquis de Pignerolles reached the
house of which he was in search. Late as was the hour the inmates
were up, for the excitement at Louvain was so great that no one had
thought of going to bed; and Monsieur Cardol, his wife and family,
did all in their power for their guests.
Supper was quickly laid for the four gentlemen; a barrel of wine
was broached for the troops, and what provisions were in the house
were handed over to them.
"Now let us look at you," the Marquis de Pignerolles said, as they
entered the brightly lighted room. "Ah, you are a man now; but your
face has little changed--scarcely at all."
"I am scarcely a man yet," Rupert said, laughing. "I am just twenty
now; it is rather more than four years since we parted, without
even saying goodbye.


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