"geran11" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dumas Alexandre)

greatly annoyed. The provost meanwhile puffed and blowed, stretched
out his big boots, and mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. He
was a portly man, with a puffy face, whom fatigue rendered singularly
uncomfortable.

"Marquis," said he, "although your company, which affords me the
opportunity of showing you some attention, is very precious to me,
you cannot doubt that I had much rather enjoy it on another footing.
If it be within your power, as you say, to release yourself from the
hands of justice, the sooner you do so the better I shall be pleased.
But I beg you to consider the state we are in. For my part, I am
unfit to keep the saddle another hour, and are you not yourself
knocked up by this forced march in the great heat?"

"True, so I am," said the marquis, letting his arms fall by his side.

"Well, then, let us rest here, sup here, if we can, and we will start
quite fit in the cool of the morning."

"Agreed," replied the marquis; "but then let us pass the time in a
becoming manner. I have two pistoles left, let them be given to
these good fellows to drink. It is only fair that I should treat
them, seeing that I am the cause of giving them so much trouble."

He threw two pieces of money on the table of the soldiers, who cried
in chorus, "Long live M. the marquis!" The provost rose, went to
post sentinels, and then repaired to the kitchen, where he ordered
the best supper that could be got. The men pulled out dice and began
to drink and play. The marquis hummed an air in the middle of the
room, twirled his moustache, turning on his heel and looking
cautiously around; then he gently drew a purse from his trousers
pocket, and as the daughter of the house was coming and going, he
threw his arms round her neck as if to kiss her, and whispered,
slipping ten Louis into her hand--

"The key of the front door in my room, and a quart of liquor to the
sentinels, and you save my life."

The girl went backwards nearly to the door, and returning with an
expressive look, made an affirmative sign with her hand. The provost
returned, and two hours later supper was served. He ate and drank
like a man more at home at table than in the saddle. The marquis
plied him with bumpers, and sleepiness, added to the fumes of a very
heady wine, caused him to repeat over and over again--

"Confound it all, marquis, I can't believe you are such a blackguard
as they say you are; you seem to me a jolly good sort."

The marquis thought he was ready to fall under the table, and was
beginning to open negotiations with the daughter of the house, when,