Belle-Rose — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

. 84 THE LIGHTING OF A PASSION. was not unknown to him. He placed one hand upon the — window, turned round, and recognized Bouletord, who had passed from the artillery to the police, where he had val-— | iantly won the lace of a brigadier. “Belle-Rose!’’ he exclaimed. *'Eh! eh! comrade, we have an old account to settle. You are my prisoner.’’ “Not yet,’’ said Belle-Rose, placing his foot upon the window. Bouletord rushed toward him, but a furious blow of the fist stretched him out on the floor, and in a bound Belle- Rose crossed the window. At the brigadier’ scries, the po- lice ran up, but by a singular inadvertence, in wishing to aid Bouletord, the landlady had pushed back the sash coy- ered with red curtains, so that the view of the country and the fugitive was obstructed. ‘‘What is the matter?’’ the soldiers asked. . Bouletord, without replying, seized a musket, opened the window, and fired. The ball knocked off the bark of — a willow ten steps from Belle-Rose. | ‘*Poor fellow!’’ said the landlady, ‘‘how he runs!”’ ‘*Make haste!’’ Bouletord cried to his men. ‘It is our deserter. If he escapes he robs us of ten louis.’’ The police took up the pursuit of the fugitive, but they were embarrassed by their shoulder-straps, and Belle-Rose cained ground. From the window at which she was lean- ine, the landlady assisted at this improvised chase. In-— stead of a stag, it was a man who was being run down, ‘‘How he goes!’’ she said, in alow tone, all the while following the episodes of this race, and without suspect- ing that she was speaking aloud. ‘‘See him traversing the clover of Pére Benoit. Good! he leaps the ditch. He has the legs of a squirrel, that boy! Ah! there is a soldier stretched out; he has struck his foot against a stump, the ~ awkward fellow! and another; this one has got entangled — in the scabbard of his saber. The deserter is already far — away; he will certainly escape them. Ah!my God! the brigadier stops a marsh-gardener; he takes his horse, gets astride of it, pricks it with the point of his sword, and leaves at a callop. The brigadier remembers that blow of the fist! Another soldier imitates him, then still another. Three soldiers on horseback against one man on foot! He is lost! Ah!he has heard them; see him entering the plowed land—he is far from being a fool! The horses are — - heavy; they will sink in. Well! they are already going less quickly. And he? the poor fellow flies likea partridge; he leaps the streams. Hold! where does he wish to go? com cho ooks:co