Alfred de Rosann — page 184: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ALFRED DE ROSANN. 175 it was headed by Belle-Rose, who fought like a lion, desperately and bravely. His left arm hung useless by his side—his left cheek displayed a ghastly wound —and his clothes were covered with dripping gore. Still did his right hand wield the glittering sword, and deal slaughter around. Our hero himself was aston- ished at the extraordinary magnanimity of one whom he fancied too much devoted to existence to risk it in a cause that would not eventually much benefit an adventurer accustomed to live upon his wits. But Belle-Rose was a Frenchman in the true spirit of the word—and when once excited, he forgot everything save glory and renown. De Rosann’s aid arrived too late. Combatting against fearful odds, and pierced by.a multitude of weapons—covered with honourable wounds, Belle- Rose became gradually weak and faint—his sight was suddenly dimmed—his brain was confused—he struck feeble and harmless blows at random—and at length fell in a state of insensibility into the arms of his for- mer companion. A feeling of commiseration took possession of our hero’s breast. He knew not whither to bear the dying man—he could not leave him to expire in the street, and perhaps to be trampled upon ere the vital spark should have left his body. Irre- solute how to act, he drew the almost inanimate Belle- Rose away from the heat of the battle, and deposited him beneath the colonnade which runs on each side of the Rue des Pyramides. ‘There he halted and turned round as if to seek a place of security whither he could carry his burthen. The wicket of a large gate or porte-cochere was open; and he had accident- ally stopped before it. He gazed wistfully into the yard behind—and immediately recognised the house where the Claytons resided. He did not hesitate another moment, but dragged the still senseless form he pro- tected to the porter’s lodge, and hastily recommended the dying man to the care of an old woman whom he found there. She was busily engaged in rehearsing her prayers, when Alfred thus unceremoniously inter- rupted her devotions. The pious portress—for she CORMICLOO© cS (E@)