Belle-Rose — page 273: what you’re looking at

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

262 3 THE GARDENER’S NEPHEW. Voy??? “Yes, my friend,’’ interrupted Cornelius, ‘‘it is an idea of the captain—he pretends that his place is in the garden.”” ‘“Certainly, since Suzanne is there,’’ said Belle-Rose. ‘‘And it is you who wish to don the dress of a I i gardener?’’ said Déroute. ‘*Certainly.’’ -_ “There is only one little inconvenience—the first look a nun throws at you will tell her that you are a gentleman. ’’ ‘*Eh! my friend, I have handled the pruning-bill.”’ — ‘‘But you wear asword! Stay, captain, let me tell you one thing. I do not know what the future reserves for us, but once in that cage of stone which is named a convent, one is never sure of leaving it. If you are discovered, what will you do?’”’ | ‘‘T shall be killéd before I am taken.’’ “This is all very well for you, but when you are dead, what will happen to Madame d:Albergotti?”’ Belle-Rose sighed. ‘‘Do you wish me to tell you?’’ continued Déroute, ‘‘she would die. What you intend to do, I will do better than you, having the language and manners of a poor devil, woman or villager. If I perish in the enterprise, it will be time for you to take my place.”’ Belle-Rose took his comrade’s hand and pressed it. ‘*Do as you wish,’’ he said to him. Déroute did not wait for him to say it twice and left for the hostelry of the Cheval Noir, after having put on a coat which gave him the appearance of an artisan. In the dusk he saw arrive a strapping young fellow, carrying under his arm a small valise and at the end of a stick a package tied up in a handkerchief with white and blue squares. _ This young man went along looking atall the signs, his hat thrown back, his mouth open, and dragging his gaiters along the outter, with an astonished air. The sleeves of his coat only reached to his elbows, and his hair fell like flax over his ears. ‘Hey! Ambrose Patu!’’ cried Déroute, running to meet him. The young fellow leaped to the other side of the gutter thoroughly frightened. His valise came near rolling in the mud,*and he remained planted upon his long ic ate in the very middle of the street. ‘‘Stay,’’ said he, ‘‘you know me?”’ comicbooks.co